


To Fathom

by tell_tale_heart



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 01:51:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 30,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8383276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tell_tale_heart/pseuds/tell_tale_heart
Summary: Kaneki Ken comes to know Kirishima Ayato over the span of a summer after he first encounters him on the city bus.  During all of that time, Ayato holds back from revealing a long-kept secret about himself.  Which, to his horror, Kaneki comes to find out during one of the worst times possible.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> From [this](http://taegyo.tumblr.com/post/113935946549/au-in-which-kaneki-is-the-cute-librarian-and-ayato) post.
> 
> I was motivated to write this two-chapter fic when I saw that tumblr post linked above. I don't know how this first chapter got so long. I hope you like it!
> 
> And oh, it's rated T for now but with the addition of the second chapter, it will go up to either M or E. Because I can't control myself and can't help but write about these two being very passionate about each other (read: sex). 
> 
> Thank you, [@taegyo](http://taegyo.tumblr.com) for trusting me with the writing of this! :)

Kaneki first notices him on the bus on the way to work.  

Kaneki has the latest Takatsuki Sen book in his hands, and it has been very intriguing so far, reading the possible meaning behind the author's words.  He hasn't put the book down since he received it in the mail, completely riveted.  But he can still feel eyes on him, somehow.  Though that's not very unusual on the bus, as invariably people get bored with sitting still and waiting for the cranking monster that is their city's public transportation to arrive at their stop.  So they move on to people watching.  Thus it's with an idle but building curiosity that Kaneki quickly looks up and over to his left to gaze down the length of the bus.   He doesn't have to wonder too much about who exactly it is that has been gazing off and on at him for the last ten minutes or so.

Kaneki's warm brown eyes encounter vibrant indigo, and he feels himself freeze, his cheeks warming in embarrassment.  He has never seen eyes like these before, taking in how wide and expressive they are even from this distance.  The boy looks to be a few years younger than Kaneki, 18, maybe 19, if he had to guess.  He's sitting halfway down the bus, legs casually lying across the seat next to him.  Black hair of varying lengths frames his face, the longest strands almost touching his shoulders.  He's dressed in black jeans and boots, wearing a t-shirt featuring a band logo that Kaneki doesn't recognize.

It is not what the boy is wearing that has Kaneki momentarily unable to think coherently.  It is his undeniable, fierce beauty.  Like a wild rose bush in the middle of a forest that has never been pruned.  It is the kind of youthful handsomeness that instantly captivates, causing the beholder to question if they had truly ever seen anyone or anything half as striking before.  Kaneki feels the heat on his cheeks deepen, most likely revealing itself in a telltale blush, despite the cold air that vented throughout the air-conditioned bus.

It is then that the boy chooses to whip his gaze down to his lap, and Kaneki is not blind to the embarrassed flush that colors his cheeks.  Becoming even more of a dazzling sight to see.  It cannot be an amusing event to have someone catch you in the act of looking at them.  Kaneki takes a deep breath, turning his attention to what the teenager is doing to occupy his hands.  A sketchbook is lying in his lap, a pencil flying feverishly across the page as the boy returns to working on his art.   Kaneki realizes that he is now the one that has been staring for a moment, and slowly returns his eyes to his novel.  But the words no longer interest him, and how could they?  When there is something, _someone_ , inherently more riveting close by to him?

His stop is announced over the bus's speakers a few minutes later, and Kaneki can't help but notice that the teenager's attention seems to perk up at the sound.  He sees the other close his sketchbook, tucking it carefully into the backpack at his feet.  Kaneki feels somewhat unsettled then.  Almost as if he is regretting the fact that he most likely will never see this beautiful stranger again.  He fully acknowledges that, if he chose to do so, he could go up and talk to the teenager once they get off the bus.  Try to strike up a conversation.  But that's not how Kaneki works, and he frowns at himself, tucking his novel into his messenger bag.  It's always been difficult for him to show his interest in somebody else, and usually the spark dies out in absence of oxygen to fan the flames.

The bus comes to a shuddering stop, and Kaneki walks to the front exit of the bus, feeling people jostle lightly into place behind him.  He wants to turn his head and see where the staring teenager is headed, but he doesn't.  As he steps down onto the sidewalk, he blinks at the brightness of the warm, summer afternoon, feet automatically beginning to travel in the direction of the library.  It is just a short distance away, the old building surrounded by trees and a neat flower garden.  The library itself is situated on the fringes of town, a snazzy and bustling shopping plaza on its far side. 

Kaneki walks through the library's entrance, breathing in the smell that is thousands of books, some quite old and their pages yellowed with age.  It brings a peace to his mind, shoving his musings of a beautiful stranger to the fringes of his thoughts.  

"Ughhh, you're _finally_ here," Irimi Kaya says in obvious relief, already gathering her belongings.  "Koma and I are off, he put away the returns, so you shouldn't have much to do tonight."

"Okay, sounds good," Kaneki comments, hefting his messenger bag onto the countertop.  "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Irimi hmms, a stressed smile briefly gracing her features.  "Yup, gotta go though!"  And then she is off, waving behind her as she walks quickly to the exit.  

Kaneki takes a few moments to look over the day's notes, reading through the notebook that the staff left for reminders, but more often used as a place to doodle when not much was going on.  Koma had already left, and it would be up to Kaneki to finish the closing procedures for when their town's library closed at five p.m.  A mother and her two children come up a few minutes later, and he checks the books out to them, smiling and waving a good-bye at the kids.  It is then that he sees the teenager again.  

The front of the circulation desk faces three rows of rectangular wooden tables, and at the table furthest to the right and back, the boy from the bus is sitting, his backpack on the seat beside him.  He has a heavy looking book open in front of him on the table, but his piercing indigo eyes have again been on Kaneki.

Kaneki's stiffens, his smile half-faded but still in place as he stares back at the teenager.  Reddening again, the boy abruptly turns to his bag and retrieves his sketchbook.  His pencil begins to fly across the page, his spare hand clenching into a fist in the fabric of his jeans.  Kaneki blinks a couple of times, retrieving his school work from his bag.  Summer college courses are never fun, but he wants to get ahead of the curve, to lessen the burden for his fall schedule.  

A few hours pass, Kaneki diligently working at his assignment while occasionally pausing to help a library patron here and there who wish to check out books.  The teenager remains seated at his table the entire time, reading or sketching, Kaneki knows not.  He doesn't want to look over at him and chance another awkward staring encounter with the teenager, perhaps making him feel unwelcome.  Or at least that is what he tells himself.

It is near 4:30 pm that Kaneki finally puts his schoolwork away, propping up a sign on the circulation desk that reads, "please ring bell for service."  It is time to start gathering and putting away books that people have left on the carts or on tables interspersed throughout the library.  He allows himself a quick glance over at the tables up front, curious to see if the beautiful teenager is still there.  He is.  And just as Kaneki's warm brown eyes meet indigo again, the boy's phone starts to make a low noise.  An alarm.  

He hastily silences his phone, looking up at Kaneki almost sullenly as he pushes his cart past, as if to gauge his reaction for allowing his phone to make such a noise in an otherwise silent space.  But Kaneki merely returns his attention to the task at hand, moving past the tables and into the nightmare that is the children's section.  Surprisingly enough, it is not as bad as he feared.  Koma had probably done him a solid before he left, tidying up the area that usually looks like a tornado hit it.

When Kaneki makes it back up front to the library to lock the doors at 5pm with no other patrons around, he notices that the teenager has also left.  He feels that slightly unsettled feeling again, wondering what would have happened if he had tried to talk to him.  Wondering what he could have said.  Regret colors his emotions, coating them in a viscous layer that would be hard to wipe off.

Kaneki sighs, kicking himself internally.   _Stop it_ , he tells himself. _You're being an idiot_.  He tells himself that next time, should he ever come across the teenger again, he will say something to him.  It is with this thought that Kaneki starts to feel better, and he breathes lightly during his walk back toward the bus stop.

Kaneki gets the chance to stand by his own word sooner than he expected.  It is two days later, on a Saturday, that Kaneki sees the teenager again.  He comes in for his afternoon shift, relieving Irimi at the front desk.  He can't help the smile that flits across his face when he sees the teenager again seated at the same table.  An issue of what looks like _National Geographic_ is open in front of him, some sort of tropical bird in flight on the page.  As Kaneki turns to greet a library patron ready to check out books, he can't help but notice that the teenager turns his head towards Kaneki when he speaks.  And there is something in Kaneki that wants him to keep looking, though his face warms.  From his peripheral vision, he can see that the teenager goes back to the vibrant photographs on the page just as Kaneki finishes with the patron.

Today is much busier than weekdays, and Kaneki doesn't get much studying done.  But he doesn't mind, knowing that most jobs wouldn't allow their employees to focus on anything other than the job at hand, anyways.  Around 4 p.m., the library mostly empties out, but the teenager remains.  There is a stack of magazines on the table beside him, but now he has a book open in front of him, the page turned to an intricately drawn scene from. . . hmm.  It looks familiar to Kaneki, and he is curious to know what the teenager is looking at, what has him captivated enough to use it as a reference while he sketches steadily away in his sketchbook.

Kaneki starts to gather books earlier than on weekdays, knowing that there are probably a lot more discarded books than usual, based on the flow of traffic throughout the library that day.  As he approaches the teenager with his old, creaking cart, he tells himself that he is just clearing the front of the library first.  That it has nothing to do with the fact that he wants to talk to the enigmatic, beautiful boy.  

The teenager must sense that he is approaching, for he suddenly slams shut his sketchbook, bright eyes glancing warily up at Kaneki.  Kaneki stops near the side of the table where he has stacked the magazines in a neat pile after looking through them.  

"Hi," Kaneki manages to say, trying his best not to stammer over his words.  "I'm Kaneki.  Kaneki Ken."

The teenager looks back up at Kaneki, but then just as quickly away.  "I'm Ayato," he murmurs, his voice a bit on the gruff side.

It is a nice name.  Kaneki almost can't believe that he has started this conversation, and he knows that he is _so awkward_ , and this has the high possibility of resulting in him looking like a complete idiot.  He takes a deep breath.  As a distraction, Kaneki takes the opportunity to get a closer look at the book Ayato has open on the table in front of him.  It is _Beowulf_ , something that Kaneki read while he was an undergrad.  The illustration on the page shows a victorious Beowulf, exultantly waving around an arm that he has ripped from the monster, Grendel.  Grendel is shown on the opposite page, dead, surrounded by men on horses.

"You . . . like _Beowulf_?" Kaneki asks curiously, gesturing at the book.  To be honest, Kaneki isn't much of a fan of the epic poem.  He appreciates its antiquity, but not its narrative structure.

Ayato notices him looking at the book, and he takes a moment to consider the question.  "I--" he starts, but then hesitates, his fingers tapping on his thighs.  "I haven't read it before.  But I liked the illustrations.  The creature . . . looks sad.  And I wondered why he had to die."

Kaneki is shocked.  A lot of people identify with Beowulf, the hero, the conqueror, the savior.  But Ayato doesn't.  Kaneki is at a loss for words for a moment, and Ayato's expression turns apprehensive.  "The book had a cool cover," he shrugs, closing the volume.

"Yeah," Kaneki says dumbly. _Get a grip, idiot!_ he tells himself.  "Can I see what you drew?"

"Uhhhh . . . " Ayato looks to his sketchbook, but then places both of his hands protectively on top of the cover.  "No."

Kaneki feels the awkwardness coming on, knowing he most likely stepped into the realm of inappropriate.  So he does what he normally does when he finds himself in an uncomfortable situation--he begins to flee.  "Ah, okay, I'm sorry," he says hurriedly, moving away to collect a few stray books from other tables.  

But Ayato surprises him.  "No, I--"  the teenager exhales noisily.  "It's just . . . it's  private."

Kaneki stacks the books on his cart, even more surprised when Ayato gets up to put _Beowulf_ and the magazines on the cart.   He is taller than Kaneki by a couple inches or so, and the closer proximity to Ayato almost has him reeling, his beauty much more mesmerizing up close.  Ayato has a piercing in his left ear, and Kaneki hopes he isn't gawking at the teenager.  He frantically consults his brain for something to say.

"Maybe. . . " he begins, biting the inside of his mouth.  "Maybe one day you can show me your favorite sketch.  If you want." 

Ayato seems to consider this, glancing quickly at Kaneki to see if he is serious.  Reading the sincere nature of Kaneki's words and expression, Ayato's face relaxes out of a defensive scowl.  "Yeah, maybe.  If you really want to, that is."  

"I do," Kaneki insists.  And now his face is warmer than ever, and he touches the hair at the back of his neck,  a nervous gesture.  But he is not blind to the way that Ayato's face lights up then, indigo eyes softening.  How the first smile Kaneki has seen on his face transforms him into something incredibly stunning.  His insides feel like they're melting the longer he stares at Ayato, so he forces his gaze down at his cart, calculating the quickest route to return the books on his cart.   While simultaneously wondering how he could have developed such a schoolboy crush on someone he hardly knows.

Kaneki goes on his way then, managing a small smile in parting.  He is in the non-fiction area of the library when he hears the same alarm as the first time, which is quickly silenced.  When he makes his way up to the front of the library at 5 p.m., Ayato is gone.  But the same regret from before doesn't strike Kaneki again, for he feels very strongly that he will be seeing Ayato again.

And he is right.

Over the next few weeks or so, Ayato continues to appear, always sitting at the same table.  Body positioned with a clear view of the circulation desk.  Kaneki is pleased to see that Ayato has made it a routine, and wonders why he makes such habitual trips to the library.  Perhaps he is an art student at a university?  He does see Ayato with a different book with illustrations featured each time, though they are of varying genres.  Maybe he is trying to get more practice in before the fall semester begins?

Whatever the reason, Kaneki doesn't mind in the slightest.  He has begun to work on a different part of the counter when doing his homework.  To keep a better eye on the exit . . .  in case someone tries to leave with a book without getting it checked out first, of course.  Not to occasionally glance up at Ayato every now and then, admiring his brooding beauty.  Certainly not.  But Kaneki finds that Ayato looks up at him just as often when he thinks Kaneki can't see.  The librarian is no big talent at acting, but he likes to think that he can manage the whole "I'm definitely focused on my school work" look.  Each time he feels Ayato's indigo eyes on him, a part of Kaneki lights up like a firefly on a hot, summer night.  

But Kaneki doesn't consider the fact that Ayato may be interested in him.  He is of a naturally humble sort, not thinking himself especially attractive or funny or charismatic.  Just average, he supposes.  Especially when he considers how wondrously gorgeous Ayato is.  In his opinion, they are nowhere close to being in the same league.  Maybe those times he catches Ayato staring . . . he is just using him as a body reference for one of his sketches?  

Also, Kaneki has only a small amount of experience in the relationship field, dating but rarely.  This only seemed to happen when Hide more than nudged him into noticing that one of their male classmates was interested in him.  And then the classmate would ask him out on a date a few days later, never something that Kaneki felt comfortable initiating.  Hide often scoffed at him or rolled his eyes in exasperation when Kaneki doubted their interest.  But it is not a behavior that is easy to change.  

During these few weeks that Ayato continues to visit the library, he and Kaneki exchange small amounts of conversation.  Sometimes Kaneki comments on the book that Ayato has chosen to serve as his inspiration on that particular day.  One time, an especially loud child cried and screamed in his mother's arms when she tried to get them to leave.  Kaneki heard the temper tantrum begin at the back of the library, getting steadily louder as the two made their way up to the exit.  Ayato mouthed "OH MY GOD" to Kaneki, which made Kaneki grin as mother and child walked past, the child quite red in the face and still screaming bloody murder.  And each day when it is time for Kaneki to start gathering books, Ayato places them on the cart as he walks by.  Helps to gather the stray books that are scattered across the nearby tables.  Gradually, Ayato begins to say more during their small conversations, and Kaneki feels encouraged to see a few more smiles. 

When they are able to talk casually like this, spend more time around each other, Kaneki begins to feel a burgeoning surge of admiration.  It is not just Ayato's appearance that has him enamored anymore.  It's his different way of looking at the world.  His strong opinion on what they talk about that comes across without seeming overbearing.  Incredibly passionate about his beliefs.  The intensity he puts into each one of his sketchings, how he can devote hours to one page.  And Kaneki finds himself wanting to know more, finds himself glancing up from his schoolwork often, occasionally catching Ayato's eyes.  He who had already been looking at Kaneki.  They never talk about the fact that they sometimes freely gaze at each other.  But Kaneki wonders what Ayato sees when he looks at him.  Because it certainly would be nowhere close to what he sees when he looks at the teenager, right?

It is late July one Wednesday near closing.  Kaneki taps his fingers on his laptop, frowning at the word document he is trying to write.  The words just aren't coming together and it is extremely frustrating.  He's supposed to have this paper on "digital literacy in the classroom" done by Monday, but he cannot summon the motivation to get it written.  He sighs, setting his chin in his hand, wishing the words would just magically write themselves.  

"Everything okay?"

Kaneki looks slightly to the right, and Ayato is there at his usual table, peering at him in what looks like concern.  His hand is still poised over his sketchbook, but Kaneki cannot see exactly what it is he is working on.  And as usual, Ayato is beautiful, black hair tucked behind one ear, indigo eyes intense.  

Kaneki can't help but smile.  "Yeah," he says softly.  "Just . . . school work, ya know?"  There is almost nobody left in the library at this point, and the table is of close enough proximity that they aren't talking too loudly to each other.

Ayato hmms in understanding and goes back to his sketch.  He has four or five books scattered across his table, some of them having been discarded after just a few minutes.

"You know . . ." Kaneki begins, eyes narrowed in thought.  Ayato looks up at him again.  "You should get a library card."

"A library card?"  Ayato asks uncertainly.  He gets up from his chair, sauntering over to Kaneki's counter.  He leans over the top of it in a similar pose as Kaneki.  And though there is still a few feet separating them, and they are merely engaging in polite conversation, Kaneki sees Ayato's cheeks deepen in color.  But for the life of him, he can't imagine why.  So he stares at Ayato instead for a handful of beats, still disbelieving that one person could be so attractive, so mysterious.  He again finds himself wanting to know a lot more about Ayato.  What are his hobbies?  What does he do in his spare time?  Does he prefer pancakes or waffles (Kaneki prefers pancakes)?

When the silence wears on longer than necessary, Ayato tilts his head to the side as he considers Kaneki, an eybrow raised.  And then Kaneki realizes he hasn't answered the question.

"Yeah," Kaneki splutters, "I mean, you always go through a few books when you're here.  And I just thought that maybe you would want to take some home with you if you found something you weren't finished drawing."  Kaneki shuts his laptop, done with trying to work on homework.  Feeling no regrets that he found someone infinitely more interesting to focus his attention on.  

"Oh."  Ayato considers what Kaneki has said.  "Well, yeah, I would like one.  What do I have to do?"

"Wellllll," Kaneki draws out, bending down to grab an application.  "You just need to fill this out.  And I would need a form of photo ID."  He hands the paper over to Ayato, and the younger boy takes it, almost reluctantly.  He seems to scan over the contents for a second before turning his beautiful eyes back to Kaneki.

"Mind if I take this home and look it over?" Ayato asks bracingly.  "It's just . . . ya know . . . I was in the middle of a sketch . . ."

Kaneki feels a little wretched then.  "Of course, of course, I'm so sorry.  I didn't mean to distract you."  He starts to turn away.  

"You didn't--" Ayato begins, but then is interrupted by the low volume of his phone ringing.  "Shit."

He moves quickly to his backpack, retrieving his phone.  "Hello?"

Kaneki takes that opportunity to pack up his laptop, tidy up the front desk.  He hears Ayato mumble to the person on the line, and it is a brief conversation.  Soon, Ayato is getting off the phone, packing his own stuff away.  

"Hey, Ayato," Kaneki says, trying to sound serious.  But he fears that the wry smile on his face betrays him.  Ayato looks up, a question in his eyes.  

"Yeah?"  

Kaneki points to a sign displayed on his desk, propped up so that anyone in the vicinity can see.  It reads:

 

As a courtesy to others

No Cell Phone Use

in the Library

If you need to take a 

call, please step outside

 

Ayato's gaze follows to where Kaneki is pointing, and he stares blankly at the sign for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing.  In the middle of the sign, between the words "Library" and "If," Kaneki has done his best to draw a cell phone with the red "no" symbol colored around and over it.  Yeah, he would never win any awards for his artwork.  Ayato squints his eyes and then his face tightens minutely.

"Ah, sorry about that," he mumbles, finished with packing up his belongings.  "That was work, called me in early."  And then with his head fixed on the ground, he rushes out of the library without another word.

Kaneki sighs, loud and drawn out.  He lets his head fall onto the tops of his arms, stretched out over the countertop.  "Kaneki, you dumbass," he berates himself.  He doesn't know what he has done wrong exactly, but Ayato was clearly upset when he left.  

During class on Thursday, Kaneki finds that his mind is preoccupied.  He doesn't have work today, and this is usually his day to get the bulk of his school work done.  Yet he finds himself distracted by thoughts of Ayato, remembering the teenager rushing out of the library, upset.  And it _bothers_ Kaneki, the thought that he did something to cause such a reaction.  It has him running a hand through his hair, clenching onto the ends of his locks.  He even wishes that he were working today, so that he could apologize.  But then that makes Kaneki wonder if Ayato goes to the library everyday, even on days that Kaneki doesn't work.  Nishio Nishiki has the closing shift tonight.  He _could_ just send a quick text to find out. . . 

Kaneki actually takes out his cell phone in class, considering.  He never has his phone out, finding it incredibly rude to text while his venerable professors are teaching.  So it says a lot that he unlocks his phone, opening up the minimal text thread between himself and Nishio.  In the end, he decides against it.  There's something in Kaneki that wants to keep his musings and interactions with Ayato to himself, for the time being.  He doesn't feel like opening himself up to his co-worker's sarcastic questions and inferences.  So he decides to wait it out, hoping that Ayato will show up at the library tomorrow.

The next morning, Kaneki groans when he sees the weather outside.  It is raining.  And not the kind of rain where the sky is full of light-gray clouds that signify a passing shower or two.  Nope, these clouds are of an ominous quality.  Spread out as far as the eye can see, dark grey.  Kaneki hears a rumble of thunder then, a flash of lightning following soon after.  Well, this certainly won't be fun, he thinks to himself.

But he can't explain the hopeful smile that crosses his face just then.  Because it is Friday, and he works this afternoon, as usual.  He tries to tell himself that his out of place, almost jubilant mood is only because he can finally make sure that Ayato is okay, that he can hold himself accountable for whatever he had said to make Ayato upset.  Surely it has nothing to do with the way his heart flutters anxiously in his chest like a baby bird trying to use its wings for the first time.

He continues to tell himself that as he rides the bus, then later on as he trudges across the sidewalk that is heavy with a trail of flooded water.  He finds himself at the library early, and he shakes the water off of his umbrella just outside the door.  His left side is more than a little damp, for he had opted to make sure his messenger bag on his right side was kept safe and dry.  The rain has even dampened his hair on one side, and he shrugs his shoulders as he walks through the doors.

As he makes his way to the circulation desk, he does not try to rationalize the heady feeling that seems to coat all over him when he sees Ayato sitting at his usual table, a rain jacket propped over the chair next to him.  His face flushes with a sudden heat, his limbs feel a little unsteady.  But all he can feel on the inside is unadulterated allurement that seems to draw his eyes toward Ayato, and he is not able to look away even as Ayato looks up with his serious indigo eyes and holds his gaze.

Kaneki relieves a stressed out Irimi, a fellow college student also taking summer classes who doesn't have as good study habits as Kaneki.  She is still muttering about getting to their school's library for a group project as she leaves.  Kaneki spreads his notebook and laptop on the front desk, the powerful feeling still holding his body stiff, eyes boring black holes into the home screen of his computer.  Out of his peripheral vision, he can see that Ayato has ceased moving as well, head inclined down towards the table.  But not sketching.  Not looking at the thick volume open in front of him, turned to some sort of black & white illustration.  

A patron approaches the desk then, and Kaneki forces a polite "customer service" smile on his face, greeting the man.  He makes short work of the exchange, exhaling heavily.  He needs to focus.  Though that thought is abandoned quickly a few minutes later when he realizes Ayato is getting up from his table, walking in his direction.  He has a piece of paper in one hand, rolled into a loose circular shape.

"Here's my form," Ayato says, setting it on top of the desk, trying to smooth it out.

Kaneki isn't quite able to meet his eyes.  Instead, he reads through the form quickly, making sure it is filled out in entirety.  "Kirishima Ayato," he murmurs.  The handwriting on the form seems kind of erratic, words written in all caps.  

"That's me," Ayato says under his breath, fingers tapping on the desks with no discernible rhythm in mind.

"I need a form of photo identification," Kaneki says politely, glancing at Ayato.

Ayato moves a hand towards a pocket, bringing forth a battered looking but most likely comfortable wallet.  "Why do you need it?"  He pulls out his identification, handing it over to Kaneki.

Kaneki looks it over, scribbling his date of birth on the top corner of the form.  He doesn't fail to notice that Ayato has recently turned 19.  "Well . . . we have movies that we loan out to our patrons.  Some of them are rated R.  And for the computers, there is an age restriction on the sign-in if you are under 18.  So, yeah, I guess we need to double check your age."

"Do I really look like I'm younger than 18?" Ayato asks sullenly then. 

Kaneki pauses in entering Ayato's information into the computer.  "Not particularly," he says tentatively.  He feels nervous, doesn't know what to say to this beautiful teenager that won't make him sound like an idiot.  There is just the sound of Kaneki typing in the space between them, and he is sure that his face is once again turning an unflattering shade of red.  

Ayato doesn't seem to expect more of a response than that, taking back his identification when Kaneki hands it to him.  The small amount of distance between them has Kaneki nervously typing Ayato's information into the main computer, feeling the other's gaze on his profile.

"Almost done . . . " Kaneki mutters as a way to break the silence that has fallen between them.  

"What're you studying?" Ayato asks then, genuine curiousity in his voice.  The question surprises Kaneki.  It is the first time that Ayato has asked Kaneki a question about himself.  The librarian takes a quick glimpse at the textbook he has open on the desk.

"Mmmm.  Educational Psychology."  Ayato seems intrigued, raising an eyebrow, eyes curious.  "I'm studying to become a teacher," Kaneki elaborates.

Ayato casually nods at this information.  "Ah."  A couple of beats after that, he continues with, "You . . . uh. . . you seem  like you'd be a good teacher."

"Thank you," Kaneki says with a smile, turning to face Ayato once more.  He slides Ayato's library card over to him, noticing that Ayato's eyes are now drawn in slightly, focusing on the side of Kaneki's head.  "What is it?" he asks somewhat nervously.

"Your hair . . ." Ayato says with wonder in his voice.  "It's kinda fluffy." He reaches up a hand as if to touch the side of Kaneki's head, and Kaneki remembers how that side of his hair had gotten slightly wet in the rain.  The reminder makes him feel a little embarrassed.  He knows what his hair looks like when it gets wet and then dries without being blown dry or a towel liberally absorbing shower water.  And he doesn't think it's a good thing.  He presses a hand to the now wavy strands on that side, turning away from Ayato.

"Yeah," Kaneki tries to laugh it off, tries to not sound at all horrified by the halo of hair on that side of his head.  His eyes are fixed on his computer, so he doesn't see the look that passes across Ayato's face then, a mixture of disappointment and curiousity. "My hair does this kind of . . . floof thing when I don't blow dry it.  It looks weird, I know," he explains, still trying to hide the offending hair, holding it fast against his head.

"I don't think it looks weird," Ayato states softly.  Kaneki's gaze, but not his head, swivels slowly to Ayato, wonderingly.  But before Kaneki can ponder too long about Ayato's words or the way the teenager suddenly can't meet his eyes, he grabs his library card off the counter and moves back to his usual seat.

* * *

A couple of weeks later, on a particularly hot summer afternoon, Ayato walks into the library.  He looks first to the circulation desk, expecting Kaneki or that guy with the big nose (Koma, maybe?) to be behind the desk, as is usual for a Saturday.  But to his surprise, it is neither.  Instead, it is that glasses guy, the one who never seems to be doing any work.  The guy is completely absorbed in his phone, frowning slightly as he texts.  

Ayato is in the midst of setting his backpack down when he hears his name called, and he would recognize that voice pretty much anywhere.  And that realization is a little unnerving, but mostly embarrassing.

"Ayato!"  He looks up to see Kaneki hurriedly approaching him, looking quite frantic.  It is a bit surprising, to be honest.  Usually, Kaneki is always so calm.  Or lost in thought, biting at his lip as he considers his laptop screen, his typing paused.  Or even blushing prettily, when he catches Ayato in the midst of openly staring at him (Ayato has yet to figure out how to be more discreet about it).  

This last thought makes Ayato quite warm, and he fervently hopes that Kaneki has not realized how much of a massive crush he has on him.  Because why would Kaneki, someone so smart and nice and off-the-charts _hot_ ever think of Ayato in that way?  A kid who buses tables and helps out in the kitchen washing dishes . . . and who can't even--

"I'm so glad you're here!"  Kaneki says in a rush, looking panicked.  "I need your help."

"My help?" Ayato asks dumbly, his hand squeezing the strap on his backpack.   _What would he ever need my help with?_ he wonders.

"Yeah, see the thing is, it's Kid's Day here at the library," Kaneki begins bracingly, not quite able to meet Ayato's confused stare.  "And uh, I usually run the event with my sister, Hinami.  But she's running late."  

Ayato's eyes widen, and now it is he who is panicking, his palms beginning to sweat.  He swallows heavily.

"So I was hoping that you'd be here today . . . and that maybe you could help?  At least until my sister gets here?" Kaneki ends the last few words uncertainly, his voice rising in pitch.  But when he looks up, Ayato knows he would have agreed to almost anything when those eyes were fixed on him.  Especially like right now, Kaneki's warm brown eyes spearing him with their sincerity and kindness.  With a strong overtone of hope.

 _Son of a bitch_ , Ayato thinks.  _I'm in deep trouble_.  But it isn't like this thought is altogether new to him.  He has known for a while that he definitely liked Kaneki, trying his hardest to finds ways to start a conversation with him.  Trying to be subtle about asking what Kaneki's interests were.  Though he probably just looked like a goldfish out of the water, opening his mouth to speak only to clamp it shut firmly when he started to doubt himself.  

"What do I have to do?" Ayato asks warily.

"Oh well, you see, the kids are split up into two groups.  I do a reading with one group while you, hopefully, help the other group with drawing something."

"Drawing something?"  Ayato feels a little relieved that it doesn't entail anything else, now slightly amused at Kaneki's lack of elaboration.

"Yeah, something, anything, really!  Hinami usually draws animals with them, I think."  Kaneki is wringing his hands nervously.  "They have a lot of crayons and colored pencils."

"And that guy won't help you?" Ayato thumbs at the guy behind the desk, who hasn't looked up once during their conversation.

Kaneki glances briefly to the side, then shakes his head.  "Nope.  Nishio is content with texting his girlfriend the entire time.  He hates kids, I think."  He doesn't bother to lower his voice as he speaks.

"You got that right," Nishio snorts, finally speaking.  "Because kids are shits."  Kaneki doesn't bother with a response, but Nishio doesn't seem to be waiting for one either, barely looking up when a patron comes up to check out a book.

Ayato thinks to himself, _Well I don't really like kids, either_. But he knows that he has already decided.  "Well then," he says staunchly, trying to make it sound like it was some sort of grand concession, "you will owe me . . . so bad."  

The bright smile that Kaneki flashes him then has Ayato's heart turning somersaults.  It could be the next Olympic gold medalist.  He finds himself wondering if Kaneki knows exactly how dangerous his smile really is.  Because it can get Ayato, he who can never be really moved to do something he doesn't want to, to step out of his comfort zone.  To agree to pretty much anything.  Including talking to children, of all things.  

The remaining effect of Kaneki's smile lasts throughout the time they walk to the large conference room, Kaneki voicing his thanks at his side.  Ayato feels like he is drifting, not sure if he even responds to him.  The whole situation seems unreal somehow, that Kaneki would ever need him for anything, believe in his abilities.  Considering that Ayato did not have much faith in his own.  It is not until they get to the doorway of the room does Ayato start to panic again.  Because ten or so curious sets of eyes are now looking up at them as they enter the room.

"Hey kids!" Kaneki announces, his voice quite commanding.  Ayato looks quickly over at Kaneki, seeing a transformed man.  No longer is Kaneki looking at him uncertainly, working haltingly over his words.  He is confident, friendly.  The future teacher coming out in him.  "This is . . . Mr. Kirishima!  He will be helping you today."

Kaneki gestures towards Ayato in introduction, and one cute cherub of a kid raises his hand.  "Yes, Jacob?"

"Mr. Kaneki, what about Miss Hinami?"  Jacob asks, and then flushes a bright fire engine red.  Kaneki smiles knowingly.

"Miss Hinami will be here a little later.  But Mr. Kirishima will be here to help instead."  And with that Kaneki turns, his voice lowered so that only Ayato can hear him.  "Good luck.  They're great kids, you'll be fine."  And with a wink, he is off.

Ayato is still for a moment, his brain firing in all sorts of directions.  He doesn't know what to do, what to say.  He anxiously grips the bottom of his t-shirt, eyeing the children who are all looking at him expectantly, pieces of drawing paper in front of them.

"Hello," he says quietly, with a wave.  

"Hello!" the kids chorus back at him.

"Um . . . " Ayato sees that there is a large drawing pad in the front of the room, propped up on an easel.  He walks over to it, feeling a little bit unsure of himself, how he got himself into this mess in the first place.  He glances through the windows of the room, and then he remembers.  He sees that Kaneki is already encouraging his group of kids to take a seat in the area designated for group readings.  When he sees Ayato looking his way, Kaneki flashes him a bright grin.  It warms Ayato all over, and he squares his shoulders.  He can do this.

* * *

 

Fueguchi Hinami walks hurriedly into the library half an hour later, breezing past the circulation desk where Nishio is still wrapped up in his phone.  She sees her brother across the library, getting hugs from children, and it makes her smile.  She knows how good of a teacher he will be one day.  But as she continues to head over to where Kaneki is, she frowns slightly.  Because it looks like the group of children is significantly smaller than in past months . . . 

Her eyes stray over to the conference room's windows, to where she usually helps the kids with art.  Hinami is surprised to see a young man there in her place, ten sets of eyes fixed on whatever he is doing at the front of the room.  And he looks _hot_. . . 

"Miss Hinami!"  Suddenly, there are children swarming her as she gets to her brother's side, all demanding hugs.  Which she returns quite happily, taking the time to greet each child.  It is a few minutes before she can separate herself to talk to her brother.

"Ken . . . who is that?" she asks quite pointedly, gesturing with her head towards the conference room.  She doesn't miss the agitated way his hands suddenly move, one second grabbing at an ear lobe and the next running through the hair at the side of his head.  Or the way his eyes look longingly towards the subject of their conversation, lingering.  Or how her brother looks down at his feet for a second, before his gaze strays back to the teenager.  Hinami has never seen her older brother like this before, and she grins.

"He is gorgeous!" she whispers near Kaneki's ear, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, he is."  Hinami raises her eybrows,  amused to see her brother redden at the unintended vocalization of his feelings.  He bites his lip.  "I mean . . . well . . . "

"Have you asked him out yet?" she asks just a little bit louder, enjoying teasing her brother.  It is so rare to get to see him flustered and out of his element.

"What? Of course not.  I can't--he might not--no."  

"Is it time for art now, Mr. Kaneki?" asks a sweet, childish voice.  Kaneki seems to snap out of his moment of romantic deliberation, a teacher-like smile on his face.

"Sure is," he says sunnily.  "Everyone line up!  Miss Hinami is going to take you to the art room!"

The kids line up quickly, leaving with Hinami.  She tilts her head to the side, seeing her brother looking relieved that he doesn't have to talk more on the subject.  She sees that his instructor counterpart has wrapped up his activity, too.  The kids in his group have put away the art supplies they used and have lined up with sheets of paper clutched in their small hands, jabbering away at each other excitedly.

The first group leaves the conference room, heading over to Kaneki in a swarm of excitement.  He reminds them to keep quiet by placing a finger at his mouth, and they instantly quiet down.  The second group of children files into the conference room.  

"Have a seat, everyone!" Hinami calls, heading over to their art instructor for the day.  "Everyone take a sheet of paper and wait for instructions."

The teenager looks relieved that Hinami has come into the room, nodding and moving to walk away.  But Hinami steps in his path.  "Hi!  I'm Hinami, Kaneki's sister."

Indigo eyes study her intently for a second before softening.  "You look like him," he says quietly, eyes flitting to the window of the conference room and towards Kaneki for a brief moment.  "I'm Ayato," he says as an afterthought.

"Great, nice to meet you!  I can't wait to see what you can do with this group."  Hinami gestures to the quietly waiting children.

"Wait, what?  But that's why you're here, right?"  Ayato's eyes are wide as he looks at Hinami.  "You're probably better at this kind of thing . . ."

"No way," Hinami shakes at her head.  "I saw what you drew.  It's seriously amazing."  She points at the pad of paper in the front of the room where Ayato has drawn a fire-breathing dragon, wings spread out as it flies over mountains.  All of the kids look at the drawing in wonder, elbowing each other.  "Plus all the kids looked like they had fun.  So, I think you should teach this class, too."

"Miss Hinami?"  Hinami turns to see Clara, the spunkiest kid of this group.  "Do we get to draw _dragons_ today?"  Her face is full of childish hope, so pure and innocent.   Hinami turns questioningly towards Ayato, eyebrow raised.   _Game, set, match_ , she thinks.

Ayato gives in with a small, rueful smile.  So the lesson starts, and Hinami watches in fascination as the obviously non-talkative Ayato gives instructions, the children hanging onto every word.  He flips to a new page on the pad of paper, showing them how to start by drawing circles of different sizes across their paper.  Hinami sees the natural ability in Ayato's way of sketching.  How he doesn't question where to place a circle, or connecting the lines.  How once the lesson begins he's in a zone, talking to the group of kids seriously, taking each step slow enough for them to grasp the concept but fast enough so that they don't get bored.  Once he has taught them the basics of drawing a simple dragon, he starts to walk around the room, observing each child's progress.  

When he gets to Clara, she tugs on Ayato's arm, immensely proud of herself and seeking Ayato's approval of her art.  He doesn't hold back his praise, pointing out several elements of her drawing that he especially likes.  He continues his circuit of the room, and Hinami doesn't fail to notice how he occasionally looks up and over at Kaneki through the window.  How his face relaxes and becomes soft.  He is very beautiful, Hinami comes to see.  And she wonders why her brother hasn't said anything to Ayato yet.

Eventually, the second lesson ends, and the kids crowd around Hinami for a last hug.  And to Ayato's seeming surprise, they next crowd around him for a hug to say goodbye.  "Bye, Mr. Kirishima!" they crow as they cling to his shirt or his arms.  Ayato doesn't really seem to know what to do, so he returns their hugs with gentle pats on their back and an awkward smile.  

After the kids make their way out to Kaneki and where parents have already gathered, Hinami and Ayato are cleaning up.  Stray crayons need to be put back in their boxes, colored pencils need to be stowed in their totes.  Hinami looks speculatively over at Ayato who seems lost in thought, a little smile still on his face.  It makes her happy that her brother is interested in someone like Ayato, someone who is brave enough to teach two groups of kids how to draw, someone who doesn't shy away from unforeseen hugs from small children who have an endless supply of love and affection to give out.  

"So . . . Ayato," Hinami says slowly, taking a seat in one of the chairs.  "You did a great job today, you know?"  

"Thanks," he says quietly, though not in an unfriendly way.  "It was fun.  More fun than I thought it would be." 

Hinami hmms in thought.  She sees Ayato glance over at Kaneki where he is talking to a set of parents, a shy child clinging to his hand.  But his indigo eyes look away just as quickly, and Hinami sees Ayato trying to look at her out of the corner of his eye.  Perhaps to see if she had noticed him stare at her brother.  She can't explain away what she spontaneously says next.

"Does my brother notice how often you look at him?"  

Ayato flushes and turns away, setting aside some crayons.  "I don't know what you're talking about."  

Hinami smiles.  "More importantly, do you notice how often he looks over at you?"  Ayato's head snaps to look at her disbelievingly.  Hinami stands up and waves goodbye, a smile still on her face.  Ayato watches her approach her brother, and then the pair of them look his way.  He pretends he was in the middle of doing one last checkup of the room's state of cleanliness, and then heads towards his usual table.

 

* * *

A few days later, Kaneki is back behind the circulation desk, working on a proposal for his final project for his summer class.  He has been trying to work on it most of the day, but with little success.  It doesn't help that he can't seem to stop himself from glancing over at Ayato every now and then, who has been sketching intently most of the time he has been there.  He decides that maybe today is the day he will try and see if he can move things in a different direction with them.  Meaning a date.  He just hasn't figured out how to word it yet.

Eventually, 4:30 rolls around, and it is time for Kaneki to start his closing procedures.  The library is almost empty again at this hour, and he chews on the inside of his mouth, considering.  Finally, he heaves himself up and off of his rolling chair, and pushes his creaking cart stacked with quite a few books towards the front tables.  It is time--now or never, he tells himself boldy.

As usual when Kaneki approaches Ayato's table, the teenager closes his sketchbook.  He doesn't slam it shut in alarm anymore.  More like, trying to make it a casual gesture that just happened to coincide with Kaneki coming by.  He looks up, a small but welcoming smile on his face.  Today, there are four or five texts next to him on the table.  Kaneki gestures towards them.

"You know, for weeks now I've been putting away the books you use," he says, smiling wryly.  Ayato looks worried for a minute, but then catches the teasing smile on Kaneki's face.

"Well, that's kinda your job."  Ayato leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, indigo eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Help me put some of them away?" Kaneki blurts out.  He realizes that maybe it sounds a little rude, because Ayato's eyes furrow at the question, and he looks down at the table.  "I mean, this old guy today had me get down like half the library's tomes on religion.  They were on one of the top shelves.   _And_ they're heavy.  So I was hoping you would hand me the books while I'm on the ladder."

Ayato looks up slowly.  He is now smiling.  "Sure."  Kaneki's heart leaps at his agreement, but the teenager is not finished speaking.  "But now you'll _really_ owe me somehow."

After they have gathered the stray books from the tables near the front of the library, Kaneki leads the way towards the back where the heavy books he has on his cart are housed.  He is surprised, but extremely elated, that he and Ayato fall into easy conversation.  Through weeks of talking with the younger man, he has come to see that Ayato isn't necessarily a big talker.  But he answers Kaneki's questions easily enough, even elaborating at times.  Kaneki finds out that Ayato buses tables at a nearby restaurant.  That his roommate and best friend, Naki, got him the job.  And that's where he goes after his alarm goes off every day that he is in the library.  How he and Naki went on a road trip in the spring, just to drive across the country with no particular goal in sight.  Kaneki catches the look of dreamy happiness that crosses Ayato's face as he talks about driving across state lines, seeing mountains and national parks.  Getting to see the Pacific Ocean for the first time and wading out into its waters.  

Kaneki can almost picture it himself, seeing it all through Ayato's artist's eyes.  And he finds himself wishing he could have been along on that trip.  Maybe one day he can talk Hide into doing something like that, between semesters of school and work obligations.  Or maybe . . . maybe he and Ayato could go together.  Maybe they could start dating, and it would be so amazing and beautiful.  And they could go on adventures together.  Driving down south to Florida or southwest towards the deserts of New Mexico and Arizona.  Maybe Ayato could sketch the sunset as Kaneki drives, and they occupy a comfortable and happy silence as the day ends.  

The reverie in his mind is so strong that it alleviates all of Kaneki's nervousness and apprehensions.  He pauses in pushing his cart and looks at Ayato.  

"Hey," Kaneki says bravely, a serene expression on his face.  "Have you ever been to the art gallery here in town?"

Ayato looks at him as if he is confused by the sudden change in conversation, or perhaps wondering why Kaneki is asking him this.  "Yes, but not since I was much younger.  Why?"

"Did you know that they change a lot of their exhibits every couple of years?"  

"No, I didn't.  But I don't really remember anything from my first trip there, anyways."

Kaneki takes a deep breath, his fingers clenching on the end of the cart.  "I was wondering . . . " he starts, but then clears this throat, "if you would want to go sometime.  With me, I mean."

Ayato looks down at the ground, tucking some of his dark hair behind his ear.  But Kaneki can still see the reddening of his cheeks, and he wonders if it is a good thing that Ayato is reacting in such a way.  He doesn't have to wonder long, for Ayato looks up at him with his bright eyes shining.

"I would like that a lot."

There are bursts of happiness inside of Kaneki, like the illumination of fireworks against a night sky.  He can't contain the beatific, beaming smile on his face in that moment.  

"That's great," he manages to say, and it's so simple.  But he thinks Ayato sees how completely sublime Kaneki is feeling, for his indigo eyes roam all over Kaneki's face now, without darting away in embarrassment.    As if he can't get enough of seeing him this way.

Kaneki pushes the cart forward into the fiction section, and they begin to put away the last of the books.  Ayato's fingers slide gently over Kaneki's now when he hands over some of the heavier ones, and Kaneki bites his lip at how precious the touch is to him.  He slides the ladder over to the last section in their row, climbing up half of the way.

"Hey, could you hand me that literature anthology?" he asks over his shoulder, pushing aside some books on the shelf in front of him.

There is a pause, but then he hears some shuffling of books on the cart.  "Uh, here . . .here ya go," Ayato mutters.

Kaneki pivots his body to the side to receive the book that Ayato is handing him.  "Oh, no not that one.  The literature anthology," he repeats.  Ayato frowns, and sets down the law textbook he had in his hand.  There are only a few books remaining, and he pauses again, considering the books in front of him.  

Kaneki doesn't think much of it, still excited about having successfully asked Ayato out.  He sees the thick volume of the text he had asked Ayato to grab, the title of it written in big, gold, letters on its spine.  So he doesn't understand why Ayato darts his hand forward and reaches for the text beside it, the history of the Roman Empire.  

"Can't you read?" he asks teasingly.  Ayato doesn't say anything, but turns slowly to set the book back down on the cart.  He doesn't move then, doesn't turn around to face Kaneki.

"Ayato?"  And when Ayato tenses, the realization starts to trickle in.  It is a horrible moment.  "Can't you--can you not . . . read?"

Ayato turns to him then, his indigo eyes dark and horrified with the mortification of being found out.  Kaneki opens his mouth to speak, but Ayato beats him to it.  "What a joke, right?  Me, a 19 year old, not being able to read."  His voice is trembling, and becomes thick with the threat of tears.  

"Hey . . ." Kaneki starts to say, moving his feet down a rung on the ladder.  But Ayato bolts from his spot on the carpet, sprinting down the aisle and out of view.

"Ayato!" Kaneki calls, hurriedly descending the ladder.  In his haste, he misses the bottom step and falls to the ground.  He is sprawled there for only a second before he hurries to his feet, limping slightly as he moves down the aisle.

But he is too late.  He emerges into the main area of the library, only to see one of the front doors clanging shut with a resounding slam.  

"FuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK!"

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update this! I've had a ton of stuff to work on over the last few months. 
> 
> I've been working on the second half of this fic for about a week or so. But, as usual, it just kept getting longer and longer. Thus, there will be a third and final chapter. :) Part of it is already written!
> 
> Thanks for being so patient with me!

_ Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap _

Kaneki's eyes are fixed on his laptop screen, but he does not read the minimal amount of words that he has already typed. A blue ballpoint pen is grasped loosely in his hand, and he is unknowingly tapping it repeatedly onto the worn countertop. He cannot focus on his assignment, how it is due in just over a week. The grade he will receive on it will account for a large portion of his final grade in the class.  

But he cannot find it in himself to care. Because it has been a week, and Ayato has not returned to the library.  

At first, Kaneki had thought that maybe it was just a coincidence that Ayato hadn’t shown up the next day. That maybe the teenager wasn’t scheduled for a shift at the restaurant he worked at, and thus had no reason to come out all the way to the library. That slight assurance had lasted until the next time Kaneki had worked, and still no Ayato. He knows better now, guilt settling into his stomach and eating away at him like acid.

Perturbed brown eyes slowly take in the tables in front of the library’s circulation desk. A few are occupied, but Kaneki already knows that Ayato is not there. Yet a part of him still forlornly hopes that the teenager has somehow magically appeared in the 38 seconds or so that Kaneki has been staring at his laptop. That vibrant indigo eyes will already be looking his way, Ayato’s lithely muscled body slouched comfortably over some text he is inspired to draw from on that day. But he isn’t. And it hurts. All the more so because Kaneki knows it is his own fault that Ayato is absent. The librarian is keenly aware that he hasn’t been able to think of much of anything else in the past seven days.

Sighing, Kaneki shuts his laptop a little too vigorously and stows it away in his bag. He has to do  _ something _ about this whole situation, but is at a loss. He doesn’t even have Ayato’s number . . . wait. With a flash, Kaneki turns to his work computer and inputs Ayato’s name. And yup, there it is. Just like he entered it in a few weeks or so ago when he gave him a library card. Along with his address, too. Hmm.

He starts unknowingly tapping the same pen on the counter again, considering. Of course, there is no way that he’ll just show up unannounced at Ayato’s house. That would be a little too weird and presumptuous of him. But nothing wrong with a phone call, right? Kaneki mulls it over for a moment or two, and then comes to a decision. He reaches behind him for the library phone, tapping in the digits of Ayato’s phone number. Taking a deep breath, he enters the last number and then holds the handset to the side of his face, his palm slightly sweaty.

It rings only twice, and Kaneki suspects that maybe Ayato silenced the call and made it go to voicemail. A generic automated voice announces that the caller has not set up a voicemail, and to try again later.

“Ughhhh,” Kaneki groans, slumping across the counter, frustrated.

He tries again about an hour later, right before he needs to start his usual closing procedures. This time, the phone seems to be turned off, and goes right to the message that a voicemail has not been set up.

“Dammit.” Kaneki stands up, and kicks his rolling chair in his frustration. It rolls some feet away, and now he feels ridiculous over reacting in such a way. Shaking his head at himself, he moves away from the desk and retrieves his creaking cart to start collecting and re-shelving books.

He makes quick work of it all, leaving the children’s section for last. It’s pretty wrecked--Nishio probably didn’t touch it up at all during the day when two people were scheduled. Resignedly, Kaneki straightens the area up, his mind still on Ayato.  _ Whatcanidowhatcanidowhatcanido  _ runs through his head on a never ending loop. Because he knows, without a doubt, that he wants to fix the problem. It just doesn’t ever sit well with him when he has been the cause of someone’s discomfort. But it goes deeper than that with Ayato, and he knows it. And . . . it’s not just some simple, silly crush anymore. He has come to  _ care _ about the teenager, and he actually misses the fact that he isn’t around anymore.

He gathers some crayons that have somehow managed to make their way out of the conference room. Thankfully, he sees that the area isn’t a mess when he makes his way inside, and Kaneki quickly deposits the rogue crayons in their plastic container and starts to move back out into the main area of the library. But he pauses in the middle of the room, brow furrowed. Slowly, he turns in place, and eyes the drawing pad that is near the front of the room. It’s still there, as it always is, turned to a blank page. Waiting for the next time there is a “Children’s Day” and the kids can be led in a drawing tutorial.

His footsteps make no noise as he walks quickly across the carpet. He turns back to the previous pages on the drawing pad, eyes wide as he examines the dragons that Ayato drew. They are magnificent, to say the least. Massive wings are splayed out, the creature flying over some village far below. There are detailed spikes sketched throughout the length of the dragon’s body. Claws curled on each limb. The head of the beast is coiled like that of a snake, poised to strike at any threat. Ayato has even taken care to draw the slits in the dragon’s eyes.

Kaneki’s eyes roam all over the drawings, taking a moment to look at the first sketch and then the second. He has never seen any of Ayato’s art, for he is fiercely protective of what he draws. Kaneki wonders why that is, why Ayato feels the need to hide it away every time he comes by.

He can see that Ayato sketches freely at times, not thinking twice about the next line he is about to draw. So clear in the way that there doesn’t seem to be a lot of pressure on the page. That it just comes naturally to him, where to take it next. Kanek is taken aback by the level of talent that Ayato so clearly displays. Awed. Humbled.

In a sudden surge of intuition, Kaneki knows what he needs to do.

Carefully, he tears the second drawing out of the drawing pad, and then tears out a blank page, holding both sheets carefully in front of him as he walks back to the circulation desk. It is the work of half a minute to lock the library’s doors and retrieve a pencil. He wheels his rolling chair back to the counter, and then carefully studies Ayato’s drawing. Then he gets to work.

His mind is clear of all other thoughts. For the first time in a week, he is able to fully concentrate on something as the pencil begins to move across the paper.

 

* * *

Wednesday afternoon is a hot summer day, the kind where it’s best to stay indoors or find a good spot on the beach. Kaneki absentmindedly wipes the sweat off of his forehead with his free hand, dark-brown hair reacting to the humidity in the air as soon as he gets off of the air-conditioned bus. But he doesn’t mind, doesn’t even think about it. For his eyes are fixed straight ahead of him on Fitzgerald’s, the Irish pub and restaurant where Ayato works.

Kaneki doesn’t take in the details of the restaurant’s front, mind focused on what he wants to say. He opens the door to the front of the restaurant, eyes roaming around the interior. Off to the left is a dining area filled with booths and a smattering of small tables. There are a couple of groups already seated there, enjoying a late lunch or an early dinner. He looks over to the right, which features a bar and some high-top tables. There is a short woman with long-braided hair behind the bar, casually chatting with some patrons who have their hands curled around a bottle of beer.

“Miza! Another Bud Light!”

Miza turns to face the guy who called out to her. “Yeah, yeah. Only if you leave a better tip today, Hooguro. None of your two dollar nonsense again.”

The man named Hooguro just grins and laughs, and Miza moves to get him his beer. Kaneki steps further into the bar side of the restaurant, making his way over to a section where nobody else is sitting. He feels eyes on his face, the other patrons--probably regulars--sizing him up and wondering what he is doing there. But Kaneki keeps his eyes on the entryway behind the bar where employees seem to come and go, most likely connected to the kitchen and other areas of the restaurant. But there is no sign of Ayato.

Miza sees Kaneki after a moment, and comes over to greet him. “What can I get for you?” she asks in that experienced and knowing way bartenders have, shrewd eyes quickly taking in the two long rolled sheets of paper he holds, before returning her gaze to Kaneki’s tense face.

“Um, actually, is Ayato working?” Kaneki asks, nervously touching the back of his neck. “I need to talk to him.”

“He is,” Miza says after a brief moment, her words slow and weighted. “Hang on.” With that said, she turns away, moving to the entryway behind the bar. Leaning in, she yells, “Ayato! Up front!”

Kaneki feels his anxiety kicking in, and he shifts nervously around on his feet. Miza passes by him on her way to return to the other patrons, glancing fleetingly at Kaneki before moving on. But he doesn’t see it, Kaneki’s warm brown eyes fixed unwaveringly on the entryway, waiting for Ayato to appear.

And he does.

Kaneki sees the black hair first, falling on either side of Ayato’s face, for the teenager is looking down, mouth fixed in a tight frown. Then it’s his beautiful eyes, so often vibrant with some strong emotion but right now are dull with apathy. The t-shirt that Ayato is wearing, featuring the restaurant’s name and logo, seems damp near his stomach--perhaps from dishwashing. He takes a few listless steps behind the bar, eyes looking up in search of Miza.  

Something clenches inside of Kaneki then, to see Ayato in such a state. His mouth falls open to speak, to call Ayato’s name. And it is that exact moment that the teenager’s eyes spy Kaneki, and he freezes. The plastic tub meant for dishes gets dropped to the ground, unnoticed. Indigo eyes go wide. Disbelieving.

“Aya-” Kaneki begins, leaning over the bar.

Without a word, Ayato turns and heads back the way he came, his shoulders tense with some held-in emotion.

“Shit,” Kaneki whispers to himself.

“Hey!” He looks up to see an angry Miza, stomping her way over to him. “What’s wrong with you? What did you  _ do _ to him?”

“I-I-” he tries to talk, but doesn’t know how to continue. He hadn’t really expected Ayato’s reaction, but in hindsight, maybe he should have.

“Well?” Miza continues, clearly wanting some sort of answer. She sets a hand on her hip, unimpressed with Kaneki’s inarticulation.

“You!” comes an angry call from behind the bar. There is now a blond guy standing where Ayato had been before, and he is pointing a finger at Kaneki. “Stay right there.” And then he works his way from behind the bar, approaching Kaneki in long strides.

“Good luck with that,” Miza hmphs. “Naki’s pissed.”

Under any other circumstances, Kaneki would have been terrified. But he isn’t. He’s still too deflated that this whole plan has seemingly gone to shit, and now Ayato’s friends are pissed at him, too. Not to mention that his ever-present guilt swirls around him, so sharp that he can feel it poking at him, demanding acknowledgement. Oh, he feels it, alright.

“With me,” is all that Naki says, and doesn’t stop to make sure that Kaneki is following him. They walk to a secluded booth near the back of the restaurant, where they are hidden from curious eyes. Naki flops down easily into the booth, gesturing for Kaneki to take a seat across from him. The blond man sits like a caged tiger, like he could strike out at any time, given the opportunity. He wastes no time with fancy words, getting straight to the point.

"So you're the one he's been talking about?"  

"Huh?" Kaneki is taken aback at Naki’s blunt nature, not expecting those words to come out of his mouth. Not expecting to be a topic of conversation that Ayato would ever bring up, at all, to someone else.

"Oh, don’t play dumb. It has to be you. He said something about this ‘hot guy’” and here Naki holds up his fingers in air quotes, ”at the library, brown eyes, dark hair, dresses kinda dorky. Guessing it’s you."  

Kaneki flushes at the 'hot guy' bit, and looks down at his clothes. He’s wearing khaki shorts and a white button-down shirt. Plain, maybe. But dorky? He snaps out of his momentary derailment of thought when Naki addresses him again.

"Look, uh. Don't play with his feelings, alright?" Naki puts his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers together. Like he means business. “I don’t know exactly what happened--he won’t talk about it. But looks like you came here to apologize.”

"Play with his feelings?" Kaneki asks, hung up on that part of what Naki has said, feeling so confused.

"He kinda obviously has a thing for you. Wake up dude."  

Despite his very prevalent feelings of anxiety, a wash of color stains Kaneki’s cheeks a bright red.  "Oh."

"Yeah OH. He’s my best friend, kid is like my brother. You hurt him again and-- " But Kaneki cuts him off, emboldened by Naki’s words despite the other’s obvious attempt to come off as intimidating.

"I wouldn't do that.” But his flush deepens at his next words. “I, uh, I have a thing for him, too.”

“Hmph.” Naki cracks a grin, which almost looks like a grimace. “Come on. Time for you to fix whatever it was that you did wrong.”

Naki leads him through a door marked ‘Employees Only,’ and the air is filled with the smell of cooking food that would have activated Kaneki’s appetite on any other occasion. But right now he is too nervous, too hopeful, to be hungry. There are yells all around Naki and Kaneki as those working in the kitchen talk about some baseball team that Kaneki has zero interest in.

“Gagi. Guge. Where’d Ayato go?” Naki is leaning forward, peering under some metal shelving to talk to some peers.

“Ummm, think he’s in the cooler. Looked like he didn’t want to be bothered, boss,” a huge guy says, chopping some vegetables.

“Or maybe he just wanted to stay cool. Too fucking hot in here as it is,” adds his companion, peering into a pot. It doesn’t escape Kaneki’s notice that the two are identical twins, but again, it isn’t an important piece of data to him. His eyes are already looking around, trying to find the cooler that the second twin spoke of.

“Tch.” Naki straightens, and tilts his head to the side, intending for Kaneki to follow him once more. He follows the blond man around the corner to a stainless steel door. “Remember what I said,” is what Naki leaves him with, walking swiftly away, checking the time on his phone as he goes.

With a deep breath, Kaneki pulls the metal handle, and is hit immediately with cold air. It feels heavenly on his hot skin, and he eagerly steps forward to immerse himself in it. The first thing he notices is how large the cooler is, packed with produce on side, efficiently organized. On the other is where they store the meat, far away from the fruits and vegetables so that there is no cross-contamination. Kaneki takes only a couple of seconds to take in these visuals before his eyes are on the move again, in search for one Kirishima Ayato. He spies the edge of a black boot peering out from behind a shelf, so he takes a few steps further into the cooler.

“Ayato?” Kaneki calls out, clutching at the rolled up papers in his arm. A few more steps and Ayato is in front of him, sitting on an overturned milk crate. His eyes are on the ground, fingers laced together tightly.

“Hey,” the teenager says gruffly.

“Can . . . can we talk?”

There is a pause, and Ayato nods. Kaneki is relieved to have gotten this far. He grabs a milk crate of his own from a stack nearby, and turns it over to take a seat facing Ayato.

“I’m sorry.” Kaneki says oh so earnestly, and exhales. He notices a furrowing of Ayato’s brows, a quick flit of his indigo eyes up before he stares back at the floor. “I had no idea. But . . .that’s not really an excuse. It wouldn’tve been funny under any circumstances. I should not have said that to you.”

“Don’t apologize. You--you have nothing to be sorry for,” Ayato says, his voice almost a mumble. He shakes his head before continuing. “I don’t react well sometimes. It’s . . . gotten me into trouble a lot.  I’m the one who is sorry.”

He finally looks up to meet Kaneki’s warm brown eyes and they stare at each other for a moment. It might have only been a week since they had last seen each other, but they make up for lost time now. The air in the cooler is cold but welcome, but Kaneki still feels a warm blush creep over his cheeks the longer they look at each other without an interruption.

“I’ve missed you,” Kaneki finally says boldly. “Work is not the same, without you there nearby.”

Now it is Ayato’s turn to blush, and he bites at his lip when he looks to a nearby shelf of produce. “I missed you, too,” he admits, but then frowns again. “I just . . . I didn’t want you to look at me differently, now that you know I can’t read. I’m not smart like you are, and--”

Kaneki cuts him off, upset. “Hey. Don’t. Don’t say that.” He leans forward on his milk crate, trying to catch Ayato’s eye once more. “You know, literacy and intelligence are not mutually exclusive concepts.”

“That sounds like something you would say.” But Ayato is smiling a little now as he says it, and Kaneki warms all over to see it.

“I, uh, I learned about this theory in class a few weeks ago,” Kaneki says quietly, rolling the paper around in his hands. “It’s the theory that there are multiple intelligences. That we as humans are capable of being stronger in some, more than we are in others.” He pauses to look over at Ayato, and takes note of the fact that Ayato is listening intently to what he is saying. “And there’s one called ‘spatial intelligence,’ where people can visualize the spatial world accurately, and . . . and act on it. Like with architects. And artists.”

Kaneki stands, taking hold of the ends of each paper he holds, one in each hand. And then he lets them fall open, revealing to Ayato what is on each sheet. The teenager blinks a couple of times, but then he stands, too, coming closer for a better inspection.

In Kaneki’s right hand, he holds Ayato’s drawing of a dragon, in all of its soaring glory and ruthlessness. Even looking at it right now, Kaneki can see the power of the creature. That it would snap his neck in an instant, consuming anything that came close enough to be a threat. But then his gaze slides over the the drawing in his left hand. And he smiles wryly.

He had  _ attempted _ to draw as much of a fearsome dragon as Ayato had, but he failed miserably. He can see now, in maybe 5 or 6 ways, where he went wrong. His rendition of a dragon has thick legs like an elephant, and are drawn awkwardly enough that it looks like the creature might actually have an extra leg or two. Whoops. He had also tried to draw some scaly wings, pointy and sharp. But they had come out looking rounded and soft, like those of a sweet bird, instead.

“You drew that?” Ayato asks curiously, studying it closely. His body seems more relaxed now, his frown long gone. He tilts his head, looking at Kaneki’s valiant attempt at art from a different angle.

“Yup. A Kaneki Ken original artwork. The first of its kind.” Ayato smiles.

“It’s terrible, isn’t it?” Kaneki asks, moving his hand around so that the paper of his elephant-dragon artwork wiggles in his grasp.

Ayato meets Kaneki’s questioning gaze, his own eyes serious. "Well, you just need to practice," he says simply, shrugging. “You’ll get better.”

"Wouldn't you say that holds true for everything?" Kaneki points out. Ayato's eyes narrow, but his mouth betrays him, curling up into a grin.  

"You know, you're cute when you’re proving a point.” Ayato seems to quickly realize what he has said, and shoves his hands into the back pocket of his jeans.

Kaneki’s face reddens, but he feels encouraged by the direction their conversation is heading. Brave, even. So he takes a step closer to Ayato, placing both drawings in one hand. "Just when I'm proving a point?"

Ayato toes at the ground, silent for a moment. But he seems emboldened by their conversation, too. "No, I guess you are all the time."

Ayato leads him out the back door of the restaurant a moment or two later. They pass Naki on the way out, and Kaneki is relieved to see the blond man grin-grimace at the pair of them before sauntering away. Kaneki has since rolled up the drawings, tucking them securely under one arm as they stand in a back alleyway of sorts. He turns around to look at Ayato, biting the inside of his mouth. There is something else he wants to ask. Ayato seems to recognize it, too, for he raises an eyebrow at Kaneki.

"I wanted to ask . ." Kaneki starts, but then pauses, unsure of how Ayato will receive the question. But he sees the clarity in Ayato’s brilliant indigo eyes. The way he is relaxed now, how they can meet each other’s stare again without any trace of awkwardness. How Ayato comes to stand close to him as Kaneki assembles the words in his head.

"Would you like to learn how to read?  I--I can teach you . . "

Ayato’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t look away. "Why would you want to do that?" he asks chokingly.  

A-ha. There’s the crux of the matter. He wants to help Ayato with this for so many reasons, bright and obvious to Kaneki. He finally finds his voice, slow but strong.

"Because it's important to me," Kaneki says adamantly.  And it is, but that’s only part of it. Because Ayato has grown to be important to him, too. It would be liberating to tell him how much he has come to care about Ayato, how he can’t stop thinking about him.

_ I even dreamt about you a few nights ago. I was looking for you, for some reason. Had to find you. I came upon you, fishing, of all things. Sitting, relaxed, in a chair while you waited for a bite. So I just kinda sat beside you, because there was a chair there for me, too. And I felt so relieved that I had found you, after so long of a search. _

But he can’t say that, any of that, yet. Not right now.

“Alright,” Ayato says finally. “We can . . . give it a shot.” Despite the sudden trepidation in his voice, there is a small smile on his beautiful face.

“So . . . I’ll see you at the library? We can work there, for now.”

“I’ll be there Friday.” Ayato promises. But then he pauses, seeming to consider something. “I just. I’ve tried teaching myself before, but it didn’t work. And Naki tried too, but he doesn’t have the time, or the patience, really. I don’t blame him for it. So if it doesn’t work out with you teaching me . . . it’s okay. I’ll understand.”

A somewhat guarded expression appears on Ayato’s face. Kaneki understands better now. That Ayato has gone through years and years of hiding behind the fact that he can’t read, without seeing a solution to it. That Kaneki’s sudden offer might seem too good to be true. That if others have tried and failed to help Ayato, what can Kaneki do about it? It steels his resolve. Plans are already in place, his teacher-brain hard at work with ideas for lessons and tasks. He knows he would never give up on giving Ayato the tools he needs to learn how to read, no matter the obstacles they might find in their way.

Kaneki reaches forward, his fingers forming a loose circle around one of Ayato’s wrists. Ayato doesn’t stiffen. Doesn’t pull away from his touch. His words are simple.

“Well. I have the patience. And the time. We’ll make it work.”  

 

* * *

 

Ayato comes back to the library.

On that Friday, Kaneki gets there first, setting his laptop up on the counter so that he can work on his schoolwork when he has the time. He had found it much easier to get the bulk of his final project done over the last day and a half, after having smoothed things over with Ayato. But when Kaneki initially walks in and doesn’t see the teenager there sitting at his usual table and seat, his heart sinks a little. Like a slowly deflating air mattress, losing its solidity.

He has his chin propped up on his hand, eyes somewhat sad and gazing vacantly at his laptop, when Ayato walks in. Kaneki doesn’t see the teenager at first, too busy stewing in his own dejected thoughts. But he finally sees movement near Ayato’s table, and when he finally looks over, his heart jumps in his chest.

Ayato is slowly taking a seat, his own vibrant eyes on Kaneki. But he looks quickly away when he has been found out, setting his backpack on the top of the table and retrieving his sketchbook. It’s almost like there has been no time separating them from the last time Ayato has been at the library, and something warm and firm settles around Kaneki’s heart. Like spending time together is so right, so wonderful.

They don’t exchange much conversation throughout the day, but Ayato does help Kaneki gather the stray books that inconsiderate patrons have left scattered throughout the library. They glance at each other often, shy smiles on their faces, secret thoughts hidden behind doors that are not ready to be opened just yet.

Kaneki and Ayato discuss a schedule that works well for both of them. The graduate student has a couple weeks off between the end of his summer college courses and the start of the fall semester. Ayato mentions that he is going to change around his work schedule to accommodate the days that Kaneki would be available after work to spend a few hours with him, for instruction.

Kaneki has Ayato take an initial test, to see how much he knows, how many words he is able to recognize. He doesn’t score very high, and gets frustrated at the results, turning his head away in shame. But Kaneki tentatively places a warm palm over the of Ayato’s hand, and speaks encouragingly to him. It is only a moment later that Ayato looks back over at him, eyes full of trust.

They spend a couple of hours in the library each day after it closes, before Kaneki has to mandatorily set the alarm on the building. He has done thorough research on teaching an adult to read, as well as seeking the opinion of his college advisor, who has considerable clout in the literacy world. Kaneki gives Ayato some supplies to study at night when he gets home, and then the librarian looks over what he has done the following day, in addition to more lessons.

With everything they do, even with Ayato’s initial shame, Kaneki sees that the teenager catches on quickly to it all. He always listens intently to Kaneki when he speaks, and asks plenty of questions. On a few occasions, he even suggests a different way of going about their lessons, and Kaneki readily agrees. He is smart, something Kaneki had long suspected, and which Ayato proves time and time again. Ayato continuously exceeds his expectations with how he responds to each lesson, and the results of his written assignments. And this makes Kaneki hopeful that it won't be very long before Ayato is able to read and write at a level that his appropriate for someone his age.

 

* * *

 

Kirishima Ayato never really thought of himself as a jealous person. But, he thinks to himself, maybe he never really had something or someone to be jealous over before Kaneki Ken came into his life. Ayato didn’t have a lot of toys growing up, and the ones he did have, he always came to understand weren’t “his.” And he never really spent time being envious over other people’s qualities--for the most part, his classmates had been annoying and shallow--and he much preferred solitude to their company. Naki had always been the exception to that rule, of course.

But Kaneki is unlike anyone he has ever met, carved from a different mold. He has settled into a long uninhabited spot in Ayato’s closed-off heart, slowly expanding until he shines through every part of it. A new and permanent fixture in a house going through renovations. And Ayato doesn’t know what he would do anymore, should Kaneki decide to pack up and leave him. Now that Ayato has something,  _ someone _ , that he pines for so completely, cherishing every moment they spend together, and left wanting more. That he has dared to branch out to, despite all of his fears that he will be abandoned again, left alone to fend for himself.

Ayato knows, very much so, that his feelings for the librarian are far past those of simple attraction. He strongly suspects that what he feels might even be categorized as love. It scares him. But  _ despite everything _ , he dares to hope that Kaneki could someday come to feel the same way about him, too.

It is about a month later, a few weeks into September, when that bitter hardness that is jealousy weaves through his thoughts, making him frown down at his assignment for the day. Things had been flowing well with Kaneki and himself. They had been talking more, and there had always been something in the air between them that had Ayato’s heart skipping to the tune of one of those lame and overly peppy love songs that is played on the radio these days. 

But not today.

No, today is a cat of a different color. Because some blond  _ asshole _ is currently here at the library, taking up Kaneki’s time, chatting familiarly with him. Ayato hadn’t seen the guy come in, but he had heard an almost too-loud voice call out “Kaneki!” He had turned his head sharply to the side, and there was a blond guy, around the same height as Kaneki. Good-looking, relatively speaking. But not in the same way Kaneki was, in Ayato’s opinion. He had watched, with a growing sensation of resentment, as the blond guy (addressed as “Hide” by Kaneki) had walked around the library’s counter and plopped down into a chair next to the librarian.

It has been a half hour or so. Maybe closer to 45 minutes. But the duo have been talking quietly the whole time. For the most part. Because the blond jerkface seems to get excited when telling a story and waves his hands around when he accentuates a point. And it doesn’t escape Ayato’s notice when this  _ Hide _ ruffles Kaneki’s hair and receives an indulgent smile in return. Or how this  _ Hide  _ picks up Kaneki’s reading glasses (the kind that he almost always refuses to wear, but eventually gives in when he is fully concentrated on a school assignment, and then Ayato gets almost no work done because Kaneki is extra cute that way) and puts them on himself, blinking behind the lenses. 

All of it makes Ayato fume, and he stares down at his workbook, pencil clenched tightly in his hand.  _ Concentrate _ , he tells himself.  _ Ignore that son of a bitch _ . He completes another exercise on the page, but then hears:

“So you’re coming by tonight, right?”

The tip of his pencil snaps from the force he exerts on it, leaving behind a little tear on the page that he was working on. Abruptly, he stands up, his chair sliding noisily out from behind him. He doesn’t look toward the circulation desk, as his blood pounds furiously in his veins. No, he doesn’t think he can quite handle the overly familiar way that Hide has been around Kaneki. And a good amount of despair coats the fringes of Ayato’s jealousy, as he walks stiffly towards the pencil sharpener near the children’s section of the library.  _ Are Kaneki and Hide dating? Had Ayato missed all of the signs somehow? That maybe Kaneki was just being friendly with him? That must be it, yes, surely, because why would Kaneki be into him-- _

When Ayato returns to his table, he sees that Kaneki is saying goodbye to the blond asshat near the front doors to the library. It doesn’t escape his notice that that  _ Hide _ stares somewhat knowingly at Ayato for a few seconds before turning his attention back to Kaneki. Ayato doesn’t watch the rest, choosing to sit down in his chair and attempting to complete his assignment.

The patrons filter out of the library, and Ayato rises to help Kaneki gather the books throughout the library, as usual. But his mind is full of thoughts that this person who has quickly become so precious to him might already be devoted to someone else. And it continues to hurt, like the feeling of ruptured blisters on the palms of his hands, the skin sore and raw. So he can’t manage to lift his troubled eyes to meet Kaneki’s, though the librarian glances at him more often than usual.

The two of them finally finish gathering and re-shelving books--an exercise that has helped Ayato, actually--and they settle into their seats at his table. Kaneki asks him kindly for his workbook, intent on reviewing his progress for the day before he launches into his next lesson. Ayato watches him as he flips through the pages, now that he is not the person being studied. And he can’t help but think again about how fucking  _ beautiful _ Kaneki is, in every single way. From the way that his soft hair falls around to frame his face to the angle of his cheekbones, to the warmth in his eyes. Ayato especially adores the pronounced pout of his lips, how Kaneki always sets his mouth when he concentrates on something fully. He--he adores this man, some three years older than himself, completely and without reservations. 

Ayato watches Kaneki check his answers, leaving doodles of smiley faces on pages where all of his answers are correct. It clenches something deep in Ayato, and he feels his eyes water. He blinks furiously at the threat of those damn tears. Why must Kaneki be so fucking perfect? How he never makes Ayato seem like a burden, how he is always encouraging, how he is great with children and is somehow able to coax a smile out of the most wretched of urchins? It’s no wonder that that blond asshole took notice of Kaneki’s charms and swooped in at some point. 

“This is perfect, Ayato,” Kaneki suddenly says, a genuine and proud smile on his face. But Ayato is too slow to hide the turbulent nature of his emotions, and Kaneki frowns. “What--what is it? You’ve seemed down most of the day.”

“Was that your boyfriend?” Ayato asks gruffly, without thinking. “That blond . . . guy.”

Kaneki looks confused for a moment before he understands what Ayato has asked him and who he is referring to. “You mean Hide?” Kaneki shakes his head, a small smile on his face. “No. He’s my best friend. Since we were kids. Always trying to make me eat more, or come out with his friends on the weekends. Why?” 

Now Kaneki is back to scrutinizing Ayato, trying to pick up on any subtle shifts in body language that usually betrays how the teenager is feeling. 

“Oh.” Floods of relief cascade through Ayato, and it is almost staggering for a minute how Kaneki’s answer makes him do a 180. And he almost feels stupid for jumping to conclusions, for spending hours anxious and upset over something so simple. But he doesn’t. Because he’s back to feeling tremendously hopeful that maybe Kaneki feels something for him, too. The feeling warms him all over, his eyes vibrant as ever as he meets Kaneki’s questioning gaze.

“I just thought--I didn’t know--just wanted to ask,” Ayato manages to say.

“Alright,” Kaneki says, dropping the subject and bringing forth his instructor workbook. “Ready for the next lesson?” 

Ayato can’t help the wide smile on his face as he listens to what Kaneki has to say. And when both of them move a little closer so that Kaneki can show him an example on his dry erase board, their knees touch under the table, and Ayato’s foot becomes accidentally curled around the instep of Kaneki’s. But neither of them move away to adjust their limbs, and they remain that way for the next hour until they pack up and leave.  
  


* * *

 

Over the next couple of weeks, they vary their study location. Instead of always remaining behind in the library after it has closed, sometimes they walk down to a local coffee shop and sit outside while the fall weather is still mild. When it gets too chilly, they find a table inside big enough for Kaneki’s laptop and Ayato’s study materials. When Kaneki turns the assignment over into Ayato’s hands, he then focuses on his schoolwork, but is always available to help Ayato if he gets stuck (a rarity, and also because Ayato stubbornly pushes through, wanting to do as much as he can by himself).

Ayato had thought, at first, that he might feel embarrassed doing his lessons in such a public forum. But nobody gives him a second glance, for mostly everyone is working on some sort of task or school assignment of their own, too busy to wonder what the handsome boy with the long hair is writing. So the teenager slowly relaxes while working around other people, occasionally finding himself distracted by Kaneki sitting so close to him. And he thinks that Kaneki sometimes feels him staring, for his cheeks turn red and he begins to type furiously away at the word document on his computer.

One day, as they are packing up their belongings after another study session, Kaneki seems to have something on his mind. Ayato sees the way he bites at his lip thoughtfully, taking too long to gather up the papers and organize them into a neat pile, warm brown eyes flickering once and then twice in his direction before shutting his laptop. Ayato waits, because he knows that although Kaneki always seems to deliberate in his mind whether or not he wants to say something, he eventually asks once he has assembled the words he finds most appropriate to convey his thoughts.

They are outside the coffee shop and walking together to the bus stop when Kaneki finally asks. “I was wondering,” he begins, tapping his fingers on the strap of his messenger bag, “if you remembered how I mentioned the art gallery a while back.”

Of course Ayato does. “Yeah.” He dares to hope, watching as Kaneki exhales slowly. Finally, he looks up from the sidewalk to stare straight ahead of him, watching without any real interest as a couple of children pounce around in a pile of leaves.

“Well,” Kaneki says slowly, still tapping on his messenger bag, “I was thinking. That maybe we could go this Friday? I checked, and they have this exhibit on foil-pressed art that looks really cool . . . “

Ayato wouldn’t have cared if there had been an exhibit on the excretions of insects. Something tender inside of him grows at the thought that Kaneki needed so much time to ask him about it, and even did research about what kind of exhibit is currently on display. So he says immediately, “Yes. That--I would like to go, yes.” 

Kaneki turns to him then, and Ayato sees that smile--the rare one meant for times when Kaneki is sublimely happy, without any perturbations. He can only stare at him back, awestruck and so very very glad that this beautiful being somehow seems interested in him, enough for them to go on a date. Wait--is this a date? Or just a way to break up their routine of study? Or--or worse, does Kaneki think he  _ owes _ this to Ayato, since he mentioned it over the summer? 

Fuck.

Ayato clears his throat, looking at the ground. He has to ask. “Is this a . . . date?” His voice is quiet, and they slow their pace as they arrive at the bus stop. He dares to glance up at Kaneki.

“I really want it to be.” And there is such an earnestness to his voice, and it fills Ayato up with something other than hope this time. It’s more like a bright wonder, a discovery of all the things that can be between them. A date. A DATE. With Kaneki Ken. He wants to yell out in celebration, pump a fist in the air like a crazed idiot. But it will have to wait.

“Good.” Ayato says, his voice slightly louder this time. “Good.” 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got fucking longggggg
> 
> Oh and its rating went up,,,,,*chuckles darkly*
> 
>  
> 
> Some songs I will forever associate with the sweet side of ayakane:
> 
> "Sure Thing" and "Adorn" by Miguel 
> 
> "XO" by Beyonce

“What time are you guys meeting up?”

Kaneki huffs out a breath, effectively blowing his dark hair out of his face. As usual, it’s just going to do its own thing and there’s not much he can do about it. “We’re meeting at the library at 7, and then heading over to the art gallery after.”

“Mmm,” is Hide’s nebulous response. Kaneki watches his friend through the reflection of his mirror as he tosses a pair of Kaneki’s balled up socks up in the air, only to successfully catch them each time as they fall back down. Hide always makes himself right at home when he comes over, and tonight is no exception. He has already helped himself to some leftover pizza and is now lying on his back on Kaneki’s bed as the two of them chat.

“What?” Kaneki asks distractedly, gazing at his reflection in the mirror. He thinks he looks fine for a first date. Once he had gotten home after studying with Ayato two nights ago, he had ransacked his closet for appropriate attire. He didn’t want to look _dorky_ , after all. After an hour of considering shirt after shirt, and trying on various combinations of clothes, he had finally picked something out. Though he hadn’t bothered to return the rest of his clothes to his closet.

“I don’t know . . . “ Hide stops for a moment, rotating the socks in his hands. “He just seemed like he was hiding something. Just got a feeling, that’s all.”

Kaneki turns to face his best friend. Sometimes Hide is too perceptive for his own good. But his analytical mind and attention to detail has gotten them out of a few scrapes here and there before, so his concern doesn’t go unappreciated. “Well, he was, but not anymore.”

Hide sits up on the bed, interested. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Kaneki leans back against his dresser. “But it’s not for me to talk about. So. How do I look?”

Hide raises an eyebrow at him, not missing the fact that Kaneki changed the subject. But he lets it go, trusting in his friend’s good judgment. “You look fine.”

“Just fine?” Kaneki looks down at himself, critically analyzing his clothing choices. He’s dressed in dark wash jeans, and had thrown on a heather grey sweater over a light-blue button-down shirt. “Oh. Great. He’s not gonna like it.” A little bit of panic sets in, and he looks despondently over at his closet. _He doesn’t have the time to pick out another outfit, and Ayato is gonna be unimpressed with how he looks_ . . .

“Kaneki.” He looks over to see that Hide is off the bed, and his friend comes close enough to lay both of his hands on his shoulders. “He’s not gonna stop liking you because of what you wear. He already likes you _despite_ how you still mismatch your clothes and make otherwise erroneous decisions with printed shirts.”

Kaneki smiles, tossing a playful punch to his friend’s shoulder, feeling more heartened. “Hey, I save a lot of money by going to Goodwill.”

“I’m sure you do.” Hide grins, and thumps him on the back before moving back to flop on Kaneki’s bed. “Trust me, dude. You look great.”

“Thanks.” Kaneki considers his rarely-used cologne on his dresser, wondering if it would be too much. Hmm. He picks it up and sprays a little on himself. Couldn’t hurt, could it?

“You were the one who asked him out, right?”

“Yeah.” He shoves his wallet in his back pocket, a little distracted. Where’s his phone?

Hide whistles. “Man, that’s a first.”

“Eh?” Kaneki finds the device half-hidden under some pajama pants. Yeah, he should probably tidy up in here at some point.

“You. Asking a guy out. Isn’t it usually the other way around?”

Oh. Hide’s right. “I guess so,” Kaneki says tentatively, trying to figure out where Hide is going with his line of conversation.

“You must really like him.”

Kaneki turns to his mirror again, under the pretense of checking on his hair. He already knows it’s as good as it’s gonna get, but he has to do something to hide the growing redness on his cheeks. As it is, he’s sure he can’t hide his embarrassment from Hide.

“I suppose you’re right.” Because of course Hide sees and knows these things about Kaneki, for how long they’ve been friends. Trying to deny it would probably only amuse Hide to no end, and then become a source to tease him with later. “I gotta go.”

“Okay.” Hide exits the room in front of him, calling back over his shoulder, “But we’re still meeting up for burgers tomorrow before you work, yeah?”

“Yup.” Kaneki takes a deep breath, beginning to feel a little anxious about his upcoming date. With one last pat to his pockets to make sure he has everything, and a quick sniff to make sure he put on deodorant, he is ready to go.

 

* * *

 

The fall night is crisp but clear, and Kaneki wonders vaguely if there is a full moon tonight. Darkness has fallen quickly now with the change of seasons, and the way is lit for him by the dull glow of streetlamps and the hazy illumination of moonlight. He tugs his peacoat a little tighter around him, his hands nice and warm inside of his pockets. The entire walk from the bus stop to the library has him filled with a great sense of anticipation, paired with just a smidge of nervousness. He knows, he can feel that tonight is going to be a great night, and it has him smiling as he approaches the library.

Ayato is already waiting outside, sitting on one of the library’s benches, peering down at something on his illuminated phone screen. He doesn’t seem to have noticed Kaneki’s approach just yet, so the librarian takes the liberty, and not for the first or even the hundredth time, to appreciate his wild beauty. His eyes rove wonderingly over the paleness of his skin--for even in the height of the summer, Ayato never seemed to have sported a tan--to the black strands of thick hair poking out from underneath his beanie to the almost-delicate features of his face.  

Kaneki knows, even at some distance still, that Ayato’s nose is a little small but pleasingly shaped. That his mouth seems constantly curled into a scowl--but only until you get to _really_ know him--and then you get to see that it’s just because he hides his smile from most people. That his eyes are one of the colors that you see fleetingly at sunset, once the sun has firmly disappeared. And while most people are awed over the pinks and the golds emblazoned across the horizon, Kaneki will always look toward the darker hues behind him and find Ayato in them.

He finds that his nervousness has vanished, and he realizes that it’s because Ayato’s presence steadies him, provides him a sense of comfort. As it has for some time. Even on this first date of theirs, the first of many, Kaneki hopes. Because for the first time, he has co-constructed something splendid, a connection with someone else where they have met halfway. And there are no more doubts about whether or not Ayato cares for him because he can _feel_ it, and the sensation sings through his veins without any doubts or hindrances.

“Hey,” Kaneki calls out in greeting as he approaches the bench. Ayato looks up, caught off guard. But then he smiles, and it’s everything special and right in Kaneki’s world. The teenager stands up, and meets Kaneki the last few steps.

“I didn’t see you coming,” Ayato says, tucking his phone into the back pocket of his black jeans. For once, he’s without his backpack, Kaneki notices. And fucking A, he is _hot._ Kaneki blinks dumbly a few times. Ayato is dressed simply in a white t-shirt and black leather jacket, and it all looks so effortlessly put together that it makes Kaneki wish he had a better sense of style. Maybe next time he can get Hide to take him to the mall instead of rummaging through his closet for the best combination of clothing items he had accumulated from Goodwill.

Kaneki doesn’t mention how he had taken the opportunity to silently rhapsodize over Ayato’s beauty while he had walked up to the bench. “You look great,” he says instead, which seems to him to be a gross understatement.

“So do you,” Ayato says quietly, fiddling with his hands, revealing that he is still a little nervous.

Something comes over Kaneki then, and he boldly reaches forward to grasp one of Ayato’s hands in his. Without even thinking about it, the two of them move so that their fingers are laced together, a perfect fit. Kaneki peeks over at Ayato to see that he is biting his lip, and it is irresistibly cute.

“Shall we get this show on the road?” Kaneki asks grandly, and tugs on Ayato’s hand gently to get them moving.

Ayato laughs, his nervousness gone now too, and he throws his head back to look up at the velvety night sky. “Sometimes you say the dorkiest things, Kaneki.”

“I’ve heard that I apparently dress ‘dorky’ too,” Kaneki teases, as they start walking toward the bus stop.

“Naki, that son of a bitch,” Ayato says lightly with narrowed eyes, but no real anger behind it. He turns to Kaneki with a grin. “To be fair, you _did_ wear that . . . space shirt the one day. Was that Star Wars?”

Kaneki’s mouth drops open. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Have you never seen the movies?”

“Nope!” Ayato says staunchly. “Never got around to it.”

Kaneki gazes wide-eyed at Ayato in disbelief. “You have no idea what you’re missing. You need to come over and watch them sometime. Movie marathon or something.”

“Okay,” Ayato says easily. “Just as long as you don’t wear that shirt while we watch the movies.”

They continue to hold hands while they wait for the bus, neither of them self-conscious about this new development in their relationship. The entire bus ride is filled with Kaneki’s brief summaries about the Star Wars movies, and his opinion on the prequels versus the originals, and how the newest two movies that have come out have been surprisingly good.

“But that’s all I’m gonna say about it,” Kaneki finally says, sitting back in his seat and nodding sagely to himself. Their joined hands rest on Ayato’s thigh, and he can feel the warmth of the teenager’s body from underneath the fabric of his jeans. “I don’t wanna sway your opinion one way or the other on them.” Ayato huffs a laugh at that, seeing as how Kaneki has already given him considerably more than a basic summary on each movie.

Surprisingly, there are a lot of people in the art gallery when they enter. Usually, the building closes around 5 p.m. each day, but due to the special exhibit on display the next few days, the hours have been extended until later on in the evening. Still, the first thing that catches Kaneki’s eyes are the groups of people standing around in the main display room, taking advantage of the free wine and champagne that is being offered. It puts him off a little, for sometimes being surrounded by too many people makes him feel like he is suffocating, and he panics. He fervently hopes that that feeling stays buried, that he can concentrate enough on the art so that the feeling passes by without rearing its ugly head.

After they check their coats, they wander off to an adjoining room, where the paintings are displayed. This room is less crowded, to Kaneki’s relief. Yet Ayato seems to want to stay close to Kaneki regardless of the number of the people around them, standing so that his right shoulder is just behind Kaneki’s left, their fingers tangling with each other once more. Kaneki feels all the sweetness of it, and he looks dazedly at the painting in front of him. It looks like a mess, lines of color traipsing all over its rectangular canvas with no discernible pattern. The card below the painting mentions it belongs to the “abstract expressionism” art movement.

“Do you like it?” Ayato asks quietly quite close to his ear, his voice curious but gentle. Kaneki turns his head at the question, and finds that he is looking directly into brilliant indigo eyes, their mouths separated by the short distance of a few paltry inches. All he can do is just blatantly stare for a moment, his eyes committing to memory how very beautiful Ayato is, how he continues to stir up these ardent emotions within him that have gone untouched for so very long.

And Kaneki wants to move the rest of the way forward to kiss him, to press his eager lips against Ayato’s. To feel for himself if those lips are as smooth as they look, if their kiss would lead to a second, and a third. If Ayato would wrap an arm slowly around his waist, and together they could ignore everyone else around them, sole occupants of their shimmery bright world. He even moves forward slightly, so tempted now and _ready_ to be a part of that with the teenager.

But he can’t. Not just yet.

Because even if they could ignore the subdued hum of voices around them and pretend they are alone, Kaneki will know in the back of his mind that they aren’t. And he finds that he is selfish in this way, that he wants to share that tender moment with Ayato alone when it finally happens, away from other people’s curious eyes. Where there is no pretending or ignoring. Just the two of them. Becoming a part of each other’s gentle gravity and exploring the force of that pull on their hearts.

Kaneki blinks, and looks forward again. Even more than before, he still doesn’t connect with the style of the painting. “I don’t think so,” he says finally, having remembered the initial question.

“Mmmm.” Ayato studies the painting for a few more seconds. “I’m not sure what to feel about it either. But maybe that’s the point?”

They slowly make their way around the room, taking the time to look at each work of art. For his part, Kaneki appreciates the realism of certain paintings, how the most mundane of daily activities is portrayed so exquisitely in a work of art. Ayato seems to like these too, but Kaneki notices the sparkle of intrigue in his eyes when they come across those works that are abstract. In these, there are often random splashes of color, or the use of 3D materials to make a work come to life.

After a couple rooms of paintings, they find themselves surrounded by sculptures. They are everywhere, and taking on different forms. Some are upwards of ten feet or so. Kaneki doesn’t even know where to start, too overwhelmed with the talent on display all around him. But Ayato tugs him lightly toward some Renaissance-era busts, and Kaneki gladly lets him lead the way. The room is more crowded here, and the quiet hum of voices in the other rooms is now occasional, intrusive laughter and distinctive words that somehow grate harshly in Kaneki’s ears. He feels people on either side of him. Behind him. Part of his mind knows that they probably aren’t as close as he thinks, but it’s not what the panic center inside is whispering at him. And he feels himself begin to sweat a little, breathing through his mouth instead of his nose.

The feeling starts out kind of slowly, but he quickly becomes aware of those flares of warning in his brain that tells him _I don’t like this_ . Dismay washes through him at the unwelcome panic that occasionally strikes him when surrounded by so many people. _Why now of all times? It hasn’t happened in so long_.

They are at the second set of sculptures, full-bodied and from the Greco-Roman era. But Kaneki doesn’t see them, brain focusing on fight or flight. Involuntarily, he squeezes Ayato’s hand, his eyes shifting from side-to-side, seeking a quick way out.

_Ba-bump Ba-bump Babumpbabumpbabumpbabumpbabump_

His heart is racing out of control, careening off the track, rolling over and over and over.

He doesn’t see indigo eyes glance at him worriedly. Doesn’t really feel as he is led away from the group that had been surrounding them, how Ayato pushes through the crowd. But he sees the back of Ayato’s t-shirt, his black hair that can’t be contained by his beanie. And then there is the blessed coolness of the night enveloping him, the welcome presence of the bright moon far above him.

“Are you alright?” Ayato asks in a voice that Kaneki has never heard before, agonized and distressed and full of concern.

Kaneki needs a couple of seconds before he can nod, his heart slowly calming down and his breathing getting back into a more natural rhythm. He comes to realize that Ayato is lightly holding both of his hands to Kaneki’s cheeks, their eyes locked together. The touch is somehow very reassuring to him, and he takes a deep breath in and then out. He will be okay.

“What happened?” Ayato asks quietly, letting his hands drop to the top of Kaneki’s arms.

“Crowds,” he murmurs. Kaneki shuffles forward a little until he can lay his head on Ayato’s shoulder. He feels safe. Protected. Eons better than a couple minutes ago. Ayato’s arms wrap around his waist and they stand there together, in the crisp fall night. “Sometimes being around too many people at once makes me freak out. I-I thought I’d be okay today.”

“I see.” Ayato says back to him. One of his hands presses soothing circles in the small of Kaneki’s back. “When you feel up to it, then we should leave.”

Kaneki pulls his head back to look at Ayato directly. “But--the art. That’s what we came here to see. It--it’d be a shame if we left without even seeing half of it. I’ll be fine in a few minutes . . .”

“Kaneki.” Ayato’s voice is firm, but laced with concern. “We aren’t going to do that. Maybe another time, when it’s less crowded.” He smiles gently, and Kaneki notices yet again how very, very beautiful he is. Ayato reaches up to thread his fingers through the back of Kaneki’s soft hair. And the moment has become less one of comforting him (since he has calmed down for the most part) and more wrought with the tenderness of intimacy. “The art is nice. But mostly I just wanted to be with you tonight.”

Kaneki reddens at the comment. What’s happening between them is something so sweet, so right. He feels himself relaxing, enjoying the feel of Ayato’s hand in his hair and his other arm holding him close. And he accepts what Ayato offers him. Tonight has seen the bond between the two of them grow stronger, and he sees that there needs, like with everything, to be a certain amount of give and take in any kind of relationship. It’s something he never really stopped to think about before, but it’s true. That he can’t always be the one to support himself and everyone around him that he loves, day after day. That there will be times when it’s okay to let someone, if not to stand for him, then to stand with him. Hide has been that person at times in his life, when they were younger and bullies had been cruel to him. But that was a long time ago.

He comes to the realization, in that moment, that he can let Ayato in and be that person for him, too.

They stand outside for a few more minutes. And though Kaneki eventually moves out of Ayato’s arms, the teenager sets a warm hand on his hip. A reassurance that he is there, if needed. Kaneki finally feels completely calm once more, so the teenager heads back inside to get both of their coats. Kaneki feels the true chill of the night now, his body recovered and goosebumps breaking out over his skin. He rubs his hands over the fabric of his sleeves, trying to gain back some measure of warmth Ayato had given him. The teenager is gone but several minutes, and quickly helps Kaneki into his coat.

“I was thinking,” Kaneki says, smiling as Ayato casually takes his hand. Like it is already something established that they do on a regular basis. “That maybe we could stop at that coffee place just down the way? And then--and then maybe take a walk around the park?”

“Sounds great to me.” And with a firm squeeze to Kaneki’s hand, they head off to their destination.

* * *

 

The inside of the coffeehouse is warm, and is bustling with customers who are meeting up with friends, or university students in study groups, or the occasional loner on a quick coffee run. There are even some couples that seem to be on a date, soft glances exchanged between these pairs, lilting smiles, and shy laughter. Kaneki smiles to see this, and takes a peek at Ayato, wondering if they look much the same. He is sure they do, that the glint of new love and gentle affection is not only visible to the two of them. But he sees that Ayato’s brows are furrowed in concentration.

Oh. He is reading the menu.

Kaneki turns his entire attention to him. “The menu has a lot of Italian words in it,” he explains quickly. “I don’t know what they mean, really, but I know what I like to order already.”

Ayato frowns and nods. He glances down at Kaneki for a second and then back up at the menu. “They probably have what I get at the place near the library, right? A caramel latte?”

“Yeah, they do.”

They order and move to the other side of the busy counter, baristas working quickly to make drinks and serve other customers. Ayato hides a grin behind his coffee cup when he hears Kaneki’s enthusiastic “mmmm” as he takes a sip of his own beverage, approving of its taste. He muses, for a minute, as they walk outside with their drinks, wondering if there is even one thing he does not adore about Kaneki Ken. He is not surprised to realize there is nothing, and wonders more if it’s because there truly is not a bad quality about the librarian or if Ayato simply chooses to revere even those things about him that he might find annoying in anybody else.

The park is a walk of about five minutes away. People pass by them on their way to the small bars that line the street, and the night is full of the noise of traffic and distant laughter. Kaneki sips at his hot beverage, eyes glowing and heart happy about this night. His earlier apprehensions about being surrounded in the art gallery are gone, and he realizes that not once had he been afraid of showing his anxious side to Ayato. Not once had he been worried about his reaction. Maybe  . . . maybe it had something to do with the fact that although this is their first date, they already know so much about each other. Or, Kaneki thinks, it’s probably more than that. Because he recalls how Ayato’s presence steadied him when he was nervous earlier in the evening when they first met up. That he _trusts_ Ayato with all of those tiny, hard-to-see pieces of himself that he hates and often hides behind a smile.

There is a main trail through the park that circles a lake, and the trees lining it are lit with white lights, adding a warm glow to their walk. They are in no particular hurry to make their way around the lake, their fingers linked again, enjoying the time they are spending together. It feels deep with the sense that things between them are joining together, aligning. That even in these few minutes of peaceful silence, they are still fully open to each other and becoming closer.

So Ayato decides it is time. Because it feels right, now. And because he is ready.

"I kinda wanted to tell you . . . some things about me,” he says resolutely, breaking the silence between them. “Why I didn’t learn to read, until you started to teach me.”

Kaneki looks over, eyes encouraging and warm as ever. “We can sit down, there, if you like.” He points to a nearby bench with the hand holding his coffee.

“Mmmm. Can we keep walking instead?” Ayato eyes the ground. “It will be easier for me. And . . .I like this.” At these last words, he squeezes Kaneki’s hand.

“Okay, Ayato,” Kaneki says softly. He looks straight ahead, sensing something in Ayato’s voice and the way he now holds his body that shows him he is feeling vulnerable. He doesn’t want to pressure the teenager with his stare, so he continues to walk beside him, their pace matching perfectly together.

“When I was young, my mother died. I, uh, I barely remember her. I remember, from pictures, that she was very pretty.” Ayato looks up, sighing quietly. “My father lost it. Not all at once, but, uh, he was devastated by her death. A few years after that, he abandoned my sister and me.”

Ayato continues on, and explains haltingly how his sister and he ended up in the foster care system. That it was not a pleasant place for them. He doesn’t flat out say it, but Kaneki gets the impression that Ayato may have endured some physical abuse. And it hurts his heart to hear it, and to think of a child Ayato, young and innocent, not understanding why this would be happening to him. Kaneki feels his eyes grow heavy with the threat of tears, and he wills them away. It is not what Ayato needs right now.

The teenager goes on to explain how he and his sister shifted from foster family to foster family, and how the two of them started to fight quite often. That his sister started to adjust to the newest foster arrangement and started to do well in school. But how he didn’t feel like he fit in anywhere, so he started skipping school frequently. How his foster family didn’t care, as long as they gathered a paycheck for Ayato living under their roof. How his sister gave up on trying to get him on her level of thinking, and turned a blind eye to his truancy. That as a result of his frequent absences and occasional fist fights, the school district decided to put him at an alternative education establishment where he would just draw all day, on the days that he actually attended.

“You wouldn’t believe how you can get away with things just for teachers to get rid of you. They passed me even though I didn’t do much. But I met Naki there. The one good thing about it. He was a few years older than I was, and graduated. Told me I could come and stay with him, if I needed to. So I did. I left school when I was . . . 14? 15? Never went back. Didn’t talk to my sister or foster family after that. And when I turned 18, there wasn’t anything they could do about it.”

Kaneki is wide-eyed by this point, shocked at Ayato’s narrative. He feels a range of emotions for the young man beside him. Tender sympathy. Simmering anger. A wistfulness of the childhood he wishes Ayato would have had. There are emotions and words bubbling up in his throat, and he swallows them down, sure they are not helpful. Ayato told him this, trusted him with it, for a reason. _Not_ to overreact, _not_ to freak out about how he hurts for Ayato right now.

A silence falls between them as Ayato finishes speaking. The teenager starts to grow a little apprehensive at what Kaneki could be thinking. Is he disgusted? Is he disappointed? Is he no longer interested? He chances a glance over at Kaneki, but it tells him nothing. The librarian is staring straight ahead. The bright lights from the trees they pass shine enchantingly on Kaneki’s beautiful face, but Ayato cannot read anything from his expression. And oh, does that hurt the teenager. Because not only has he spewed out the story of his less-than-happy childhood, he has poured gasoline on top of it and lit a match by expressing his opinion on the indifferent teachers he had. And he feels like maybe this is the last time he will spend an evening like this with Kaneki, and the thought is a crushing blow to his chest.

But Ayato is too quick to doubt himself sometimes. A lot of times.

Kaneki all of a sudden pulls the teenager to him, arms reaching up to wrap around his neck, face touching gently down to his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Ayato,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry.” It is only then that Ayato can relax again, folding his own arms around Kaneki’s waist. He buries his face into the librarian’s dark brown hair.

“Not your fault,” he mumbles. Kaneki just pulls him tighter against him at hearing that, and they stay in that position for a minute or two. People pass by them on the trail, but they don’t move away from each other. And though the night is getting chilly around them, they are comfortable in their embrace. Ayato feels Kaneki’s warm breath on his neck, steady and calming.

They eventually begin walking the trail again, and Kaneki occasionally squeezes Ayato’s hand, hoping he communicates all of the feelings he has inside of him but can’t put words to. Because he knows Ayato didn’t tell him this to have Kaneki rage or cry or be bitter for him. It was just something he felt Kaneki should know, that he trusts him with.

But there is something Kaneki wants to know more about. He looks over at Ayato, and sees that the teenager isn’t holding himself tightly anymore, isn’t staring at the ground in self-reprobation. Instead, Ayato meets his gaze head on, an eyebrow raised.

“What is it?”

“Your sister . . . “ Kaneki begins. “Have you talked to her since?”

“Ah. Her name is Touka.” Ayato sighs again but doesn’t become dejected. “We’ve talked a little. I went to see her a couple months ago. She’s still angry and so am I. I know a lot of what happened is my fault, I admit that now. But sometimes it still hurts that she gave up on me. But we are getting there. Well. Getting somewhere, I guess.”

Kaneki nods at that, thinking it through. Wondering what it would be like if he and Hinami had had the same kind of life Ayato and his sister had. And it pains him to think of any situation where he could ever give up on his sister. Because he doesn’t think he ever could have. But, he reminds himself, he shouldn’t judge this sister of Ayato he has never met, though he still feels inclined to think less of her.

They finish their circuit around the park, talking of other topics along the way, and make it back to a nearby bus stop. Kaneki gets off on Ayato’s stop, walking him home. He even accompanies him to his front door, where they both hesitate, unsure of how they are ending this date of theirs. Kaneki wants to kiss Ayato on the lips, to express all of those sweet and strong affections he has for him. But again, now doesn’t seem to be the time for it. The air between them is still heavy with what has been talked about.

So instead, and with a determined bravery about him, Kaneki steps forward and lightly touches Ayato on each side of his face. He sees the surprise in indigo eyes, wondering what Kaneki is doing. Going up on his tiptoes, Kaneki touches his lips gently to Ayato’s forehead. He lets the kiss linger, because he knows this is not the kind of quick gesture that a parent might bestow upon their child. No, this is something altogether different.

This is a gesture that shows how he has come to cherish Kirishima Ayato. That even though Ayato laid bare all of those secrets that he found most repulsive about himself, Kaneki still wants to be with him in any way Ayato is willing to give. That he looks at Ayato differently than Ayato looks at himself. Thinks of him reverently, sees all of his talents and qualities and what he deems his flaws. And through this gentle kiss, he is giving himself to Ayato, should he want to be with Kaneki, too.

Kaneki leans back a minute later with a shy smile, never having been the one to initiate a gesture of affection like that. Never having felt so strongly about someone else before to have initiated a kiss. Ayato’s cheeks are a blossoming pink, and he can’t take his eyes off of Kaneki in front of him.

“Good night, Ayato,” Kaneki says. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Ayato says, stunned. “Good night, Kaneki.”

* * *

 

It’s the beginning of October, a couple of weeks later. The leaves on the trees have started to change colors, all fiery reds and sunbursts of oranges. The air outside smells like someone nearby is using a wood stove to combat the chilliness in the air, and Ayato breathes in this scent as he strolls toward the library. Though it’s colder than normal for this time of year, the teenager doesn’t mind, the two coffees he is holding are keeping his hands quite warm.  

He carefully shifts both beverages to one hand while he opens the library door, hoping against hope that he doesn’t drop one to the ground. But he’s good, and he smiles triumphantly at himself at this smallest of miracles. Indigo eyes immediately eye the circulation desk as he walks to the tables in front. A heady warm feeling coast all over him when he sees Kaneki chatting quietly with the big-nose guy . . . definitely Koma, Ayato remembers. Kaneki sees the teenager’s arrival, and Ayato is not blind to the way Kaneki immediately brightens, mouth curling up into a sweet smile.

Koma looks from Kaneki to Ayato and then back to Kaneki again, a shit-eating grin on his face. He moves away from the desk with a creaking cart full of books needing re-shelving, nodding cheerfully at Ayato as he passes.

Ayato moves over to the circulation desk, Kaneki’s “new favorite drink,” a mix of white chocolate and pumpkin spice (too much sugar and not enough espresso) in his hand. He had been confused one day when he saw Kaneki come in with a smoothie, remembering the “no food or drink” sign that is still propped up on the front counter.

“Oh that,” Kaneki had said dismissively. “That’s mainly just there because of the kids. We had too many spills of chocolate milk. But if people bring in coffee, nobody minds.”

Kaneki receives his drink gratefully, again “mmmm”ing in satisfaction at its taste. Ayato just smiles in amusement, admiring how Kaneki doesn’t refrain from holding in his reactions around him.

“Thank you.” A group approaches the desk then, so Ayato moves away to return to his usual seat. “Hey,” Kaneki calls quietly to him.

Ayato’s bright eyes find Kaneki’s warm ones. “Yeah?”

“I want to ask you about something, later,” Kaneki says seriously, fingers tapping on the counter top.

Ayato doesn’t have time to ask Kaneki to expand on that thought, as a family crowds the circulation desk with plenty of books they want to check out. Nor does he get the opportunity to ask him about it in the next few hours, for the library is busy on this Saturday afternoon, and Kaneki is often away from the desk helping someone find a book or taking a turn at re-shelving.

So Ayato busies himself with delving into his workbook and completing a few more exercises. To his surprise, he is nearing the end of the workbook. There are only a handful of lessons left, and as he thumbs through the remaining pages, he sees that he can read all of the information typed out on each one of them. That the words are no longer a puzzle for him to figure out, jagged and awkward as he puts pieces together. That what had seemed so daunting a few months ago, and at times impossible to fathom, is now a path cleared in front of him. And he knows that he has become gradually aware of the fact for some time that, _yes he can now read_ , but it hits him all of a sudden, like the force of a flash flood through a dry desert. **Yes, I can read!**

For a few moments, Ayato merely stares down at the next page in his book, the words becoming bleary, and he is overwhelmed with his accomplishment. It’s a powerful moment for him, that something for him that had so long been beyond his reach is now his reality. Beside him on the table, there is a small book titled “Types of Tropical Fish.” He pulls it over to him, eagerly flipping through the pages. He stops at one, eyes reading over the words: “The Albino Cherry Barb is a farm developed albino form of the wild type.” Yes. And he realizes that he isn’t just skimming over the sounds of these words in his head, he comprehends them. He is actually _reading_ about these--these kinds of cool-looking fish. Excited, he continues to read through the book, absorbing facts about the care of tropical fish.

“Hey.”

Ayato looks up, feeling on top of the world, like he can fucking do anything. Kaneki is there beside him, his ever-present creaky cart full of books waiting to be re-shelved. The teenager is a little shocked to realize that the library is a few minutes away from being closed, empty of patrons for the day. A considerable amount of time has passed without him realizing it.

“Hey,” Ayato says back at him, still riding the waves of triumph. He smiles brightly as he gets to his feet, gathering the books on his table.

“Find anything interesting about . . .” Kaneki reads the title of the book Ayato had been perusing, “tropical fish?”

“Actually, yeah. They’re really cool. Did you know that there’s this one type of fish . . . I forget what it’s called . . . but it shoots a jet of water at its prey?”

Kaneki smiles softly. “No, I didn’t know that.”

They begin their usual circuit of the library, re-shelving books with Ayato continuing to talk about the different types of tropical fish. Kaneki listens, heart swelling with affection, as Ayato discusses the life span of a clown fish. He admires the enthusiasm with which Ayato speaks, eyes brighter than ever, hands moving about excitedly. Most of all, he is proud of all the hard work that the teenager has put in, hours and hours of sounding out words, listening to tutorials on the internet, completing assignments. How brave Ayato has been to let Kaneki in, to work so diligently at something that he had formerly been ashamed to speak of.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?” Ayato asks after they have finished with the books and are taking a seat at his table.

Kaneki looks over at him with a blossom of a smile. “Hang on a sec.” He quickly gets up out of his seat and hurries over to the circulation desk, leaning far over it to get something out of his messenger bag. Ayato has a few seconds to admire Kaneki’s ass before the librarian turns back around, waving a paper.

“Here.” Kaneki hands over the paper with a flourish.

Ayato reads the first few lines of the paper and then stops, looking up at Kaneki for the briefest of moments. Warm brown eyes are gazing at him hopefully, and he is biting the inside of his mouth. Ayato can feel his heart begin to pound as he starts at the beginning and reads out loud.

“Now is the time. Register for free GED classes today. Classes will be held Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings.” Ayato’s voice sounds hollow as he reads the words, but he is far from feeling a lack of emotion. His eyes scan over the rest of the document, taking note that the classes are held at Kaneki’s university, and begin in January. He looks back up at Kaneki, a mixture of emotions fighting for dominance. He feels fear that he might fail. Embarrassment that he might not be as smart as the other students. Exposed to other people that he lacks a high school diploma, and reads at a slow pace. But above all that is a renewed belief in himself. He remembers the feeling of triumph from earlier, that something he had held as impossible for so long is now his reality. And he _knows_ he can do this, though it will probably be the hardest thing he has ever done.

“One of the adjunct professors in my department is teaching those classes,” Kaneki says firmly. “She-she really knows her stuff. She’s a great instructor. I saw that the department posted this yesterday, and thought about you.” Kaneki pauses, gazing thoughtfully at Ayato. “I can help you study, after your classes. We can go over anything you like. And-and you can come over to my apartment, be more comfortable. We don’t always need to spend time here.”

Ayato feels a burgeoning affection for the man in front of him, illuminating a love that has taken root in him for Kaneki some time ago. “You have your own work to do,” he says thickly. “Why would you do that for me?”

“Because it is important." He seems to consider his words, eyes flitting to the table top, before returning back to look at Ayato. He’s heard those words before, when he asked Kaneki why he wanted to teach him to read. Ayato nods. But Kaneki continues to speak.

“Because _you_ are important. Very important, to me.”

Blood rushes through Ayato’s veins at these words, and without thinking, he does what feels right. He leans forward and presses a kiss to Kaneki’s lips, and it lasts only a second. Ayato sees that Kaneki’s cheeks are reddening, but his eyes are blazing with something Ayato can’t decipher, and he thinks it’s good.

“Kiss me again,” Kaneki says softly.

Ayato does, and oh is it good.

Their lips move slowly against each other, heads tilting into the kiss. It is sweet and lingering, light touches of exploration, lips parting slightly. They both know that this has been a long time coming, the accumulation of hope and attraction and longing building up inside of both of them for months now.

When they finally move away from each other, Ayato sets his palm on Kaneki’s knee. The librarian sees how strongly the teenager is shining, how he looks at Kaneki like he has just discovered a new planet and his eyes can’t see all that there is to see at once.

“I’ll do it,” Ayato declares. “The GED classes, I want to do it.”

Kaneki feels a surge of pride for Ayato, and places his hand over the one Ayato has on his knee. “You’ll be fantastic, I know it.”

A month or two ago, Ayato might have ducked his head at that, unsure of how to show his reaction to those kinds of words. Because he hasn’t meant this much to anybody else in such a very long time, and the feeling is brand new. How he would have been so fearful, and hesitant, to care for someone else in this way. But he isn’t the Ayato of a couple months ago, and he meets Kaneki’s gaze without any of the fears of the past holding him back.

“I want to kiss you again,” Ayato says.

Kaneki has absolutely no problems with that. It is a while before they move on to Ayato’s studies, and so distracted is Kaneki that he almost misses the time by which he has to set the alarm on the library. They leave together, as usual. But the kiss they leave each other with, in parting, is something new and precious, a promise of many more to come.

 

* * *

 

January rolls around, and Ayato begins to take his GED prep classes. He comes often to Kaneki’s apartment afterward, exhausted from so much new information being pumped into his brain. Kaneki, having already finished his own schoolwork by the time he gets there, simply takes him by the hand and leads him over to the couch. They unwind together, warm bodies relaxing against each other, Ayato threading his fingers through Kaneki’s hair. Sometimes they watch a movie, and even manage to watch most of Kaneki’s Star Wars blu-rays. But on other nights, what Ayato wants is his boyfriend. It starts out as an innocent kiss, but then Ayato’s wandering hands push up underneath Kaneki’s t-shirt, and leads to an hour or more of the two of them making out heavily, and Kaneki winds up crawling onto Ayato’s lap.

Slowly but surely, as the months fly by, Ayato adjusts to the lessons. At first, the classes are a bit overwhelming for him, not used to being in a school setting again. Listening to a stranger who is his instructor is something new, too. But he recounts all of the hard work he has already put into learning how to read, and the fact that he has someone who believes in him. Someone he knows will never give up on him, and it makes a world of difference on those days when he occasionally doubts himself and his abilities.

One afternoon in mid-June, Kaneki is reading over some assigned reading for his summer class. Despite his frustrations over taking a class the previous summer, he decided to go for it again in order to lighten the load for his fall semester. He has been in full-concentration mode for a couple of hours, sitting comfortably on one side of his couch while Ayato studies on the other, when he hears a deep sigh of frustration.

Kaneki looks up from his computer screen, brown eyes blinking from behind his reading glasses. Ayato has closed his mathematics study text, and is now rubbing at his eyes tiredly.

His GED test is only a few weeks away now, and Kaneki has seen Ayato grow increasingly stressed over it. When he occasionally gets a problem wrong these days, he tends to beat himself up over it, internally berating himself for something so simple he had gotten incorrect. Kaneki can see this in the way that he clenches hard on his pencil, and how he holds his body tightly. It’s times like those where Kaneki climbs behind Ayato, thighs on either side of his hips, and slowly massages his neck until Ayato’s body is supple under his fingers and all bad thoughts are long gone.

But it doesn’t look like Ayato has closed his book over getting an answer wrong. No--it looks more like he is just _done_ for the day, having been at it for a while now.

“Everything okay?” Kaneki asks, taking his reading glasses off and setting them on the side table beside him.

Ayato hmms thoughtfully, and sets his book aside. “I’m getting a headache. Think I’m done today with studying.” He rubs at his forehead, but then leans back into the couch into a more relaxed pose. Bright indigo eyes gaze over at Kaneki now, and a sly smile creeps up onto his face.

“What’s that look for?” Kaneki questions, shutting his laptop.

“Well . . . maybe I’m not completely done studying,” Ayato says lazily with a smirk.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Kaneki asks loftily.

“Maybe I would keep going . . . if it were your naked body I was studying,” he brazenly says.

Kaneki feels himself redden a little, but his eyes narrow playfully at his boyfriend. “Oh?”

“Yup.”

There is a moment where they just stare at each other, Ayato challenging Kaneki, seeing if he rises to the occasion, while a few ideas run rampant in Kaneki’s mind. He settles on one, and his own lips curl into a smirk. “I have an idea.”

“Oh?” Ayato says, mimicking Kaneki’s earlier tone.

“Yeah,” Kaneki says slowly. “Wanna play a game?”

Ayato raises an eyebrow. “A game?”

“Mmmm hmmm.”

Ayato tries to figure out where this is going, because it doesn’t sound like Kaneki is about to break out Monopoly or Uno, but he draws a blank. Still though, playing a game, any game, with Kaneki is better than trying more reading comprehension questions.

“Yeah. Okay. Yeah, let’s play a game.”

Kaneki smiles triumphantly, rising from the couch to search through his messenger bag near the front door. “You were working on RLA today, right?”

“Yeah . . . “ Ayato stares, confused, as Kaneki finally retrieves what looks like his instructor version of the Mathematical Reason study guide. “What are we gonna do?”

Kaneki turns around, a shy grin on this face. “It’s gonna go like this. _You_ are going to do one of those math practice tests. For each one you get right, _I’ll_ take a step closer to you. . . anddddd take off a piece of clothing.” He runs a hand through the back of his hair nervously before continuing. “So that means, if I make it to you without any clothes, you can--you can study my body like you want.”

Ayato is so down for this type of game. “Well okay,” he enthuses, getting comfortable on the couch, eyeing Kaneki with heat. “Let’s get started.”

“One other thing,” Kaneki informs him. “I will put back on a piece of clothing for every wrong answer you get. If you get three questions wrong, then you go back to studying . . . the material from the book.”

“This is kinda like that game in _The Sixth Sense_ isn’t it? Except there’s no ghosts here. And they didn’t take off their clothes.”

Kaneki tilts his head. “I was actually thinking _Billy Madison_ , that movie with Adam Sandler.”

“I haven’t seen that one,” Ayato says, rummaging around in his bag for his math text. “Ok. I’m ready when you are.”

Kaneki spends a minute adding on some layers of clothing, to Ayato’s amusement. When he comes back out of his bedroom, he is now also wearing an oversized hoodie and socks. He stops to hastily put on some shoes, leaving the laces untied. Ayato watches all of this fondly, how Kaneki has an excited smile on his face as he finally turns to face him, not at all self-conscious about his comical appearance. His brown hair is sticking up all over the place now, the hoodie fitting too big on his smaller frame. He is wearing bright yellow socks, and they clash horribly with his brown dress shoes.

Ayato thinks Kaneki has never been cuter.

“Alright,” Kaneki announces in his teacher voice. “Turn to page 240, practice test 7. You may use a calculator.”

Ayato complies, taking a look at the first question, calculator on the arm rest. He is a little over-excited right now, one of his legs shaking in anticipation. So he doesn’t immediately grasp what the first question is asking him.

“Can . . . can you read it to me?” Ayato asks. He finds that sometimes this helps make him focus. And he _especially_ wants to pass this test.

“Yes, Mr. Kirishima.” Kaneki grins, and then clears his throat, resuming his teacher aura. “In McKinley High School, 46% of students are female. If the total number of students is 1250, then how many male students are attending this high school?” Kaneki reads the choices out loud as well, for good measure.

Ayato blinks down at his own workbook, re-reading the question for secondary comprehension. Finally he nods to himself, and scribbles some numbers in his notebook. A quick calculation on his calculator has him announcing confidently: “It’s D. 675.”

Kaneki checks the answer in his book. “Correct.” He kicks off one of his shoes, and takes a step forward from the kitchen. Ayato can’t wait for the rest of the questions. Math has never been so fun.

“Would you like me to read the next question?” Kaneki asks.

Ayato thinks about it, but shakes his head. Though it does help him a lot, he knows that he won’t have Kaneki there on the day of his examination. So he reads the next question thoroughly, saying each word in his head slowly, imagining it in Kaneki’s voice. A minute passes, and he again comes up with answer.

“It’s C. March and May.”

“You are correct.” Kaneki kicks off his other show now, taking another step forward. A shy smile creeps onto his face. As if the full reality of what he is doing has hit him, and what it will be like when he has one article of clothing on. Or none.

Questions three, four, and five pass easily enough, and Kaneki loses both socks and the hoodie. Eight questions answered correctly with no mistakes will mean he has made it to Ayato, and he will have taken off all of his clothing. He is now in the living room, almost even with the other side of the couch. But Ayato misses question six, and Kaneki puts a sock back on, and takes a step backwards towards the kitchen.

Instead of getting angry at himself, like he would have on another day, Ayato takes it all in stride. He circles the question in his workbook and makes a note to himself to review volume at some later time. With that done, he looks up at Kaneki.

“Bring it,” he says, eyes narrowed again in challenge.

Question seven is easy--it’s just a matter of setting up a simple equation and then cross-multiplying, eventually solving for x. Kaneki takes the sock back off, and then throws it at Ayato’s face when he teases with, “Ohhhh, take it off, take it off."

Question eight throws Ayato for a loop for a minute, until he remembers how to calculate an average, wondering why they use the word ‘mean.’  Kaneki is closer now, and pulls off his t-shirt slowly, dropping it down on the couch beside him. Ayato eyes his bare chest eagerly, and then he slowly looks up to Kaneki’s face.

“I’m ready for the next question,” he says gruffly, and then looks down into his book to read it. And thank the heavens above, it is an easy calculation. _Simplify (_ _x_ _6_ _)(_ _x_ _5_ _)._ Pshhhhh. He looks up at Kaneki, his sly smirk back on his face. “It’s C, _x_ to the eleventh power.”

“Correct.” Kaneki hesitates the smallest of moments, biting his lip. But he sets the instructor text on the couch, and takes a step forward. He’s about two feet away from Ayato now, and the teenager drinks up the sight in front of him.

Kaneki slowly unbuttons his jeans without looking at Ayato, and pushes them down his legs, stepping out of one leg and then the other. For some reason, he seems to care about his jeans getting wrinkled (a first--Ayato has seen the state of Kaneki’s laundry in his room), for he folds them carefully and sets them on the couch.

“One more question right, and you win,” Kaneki announces, voice a little airy. But Ayato is not fooled. He knows most of Kaneki’s mannerisms by now, the subtle shifts in body language that reveal so much.

Kaneki pretends to be reading the next question in the instructor text, trying to hide the fact that he is nervous. Ayato examines his face, and Kaneki knows that there is no hiding the flush on his cheeks, or how he is cracking his fingers on one hand behind his back. Of course, they have seen each other naked before, but not like this. Not with Kaneki on display--or soon to be on display--with Ayato now eyeing the shape of his clothed cock, eyes hungry. Most likely thinking . . . _things_ that’d he like to do with and to Kaneki.

“I can’t wait,” Ayato says darkly, adjusting himself on the couch, palm sliding down his thigh slowly.

“Ummm.” Kaneki tries to refocus, but Ayato’s eyes _are still on his crotch,_ hot and needy. So he reads the question out loud in an attempt to divert his attention back onto the game. “Qu-question 10. Melody needs to calculate her monthly water bill. Her family used 18,900 gallons at a rate of $1.12 per hundred gallons. There is also a monthly account fee of $5.90 per household. What is her total bill?”

Kaneki is unsure if Ayato has heard him. He can see over the top of his book that Ayato hasn’t looked down at his workbook. His face is relaxed, lips parted. Long legs are spread a little wider than before, and Kaneki can see that Ayato is now palming himself over his jeans.

Dear god.

Kaneki flushes, and squirms a little where he stands, sooooo not used to this kind of attention. But despite his initial tendency toward embarrassment, he can’t explain why he suddenly feels his dick twitch in his boxer briefs. Or why he glances again at Ayato, brown eyes mesmerized by the way his hand moves deliberately up and down over his cock.

“Aya-ayato,” Kaneki murmurs, feeling the telltale signs of arousal begin to gather in him. How his skin feels hot all over, how he wants Ayato to touch him and make him hotter. He can’t help it--his free hand drifts down to rub over his twitching dick, too, and oh does it feel good.

“You tease.” Ayato’s voice is deeper in pitch than before, his eyes narrowed and fixed on Kaneki’s face.

Kaneki breathes out shakily. “Answer it. The next question.”

The teenager gets quickly to work, eyes flying across the words. Kaneki sees him close his eyes for a moment, before starting back at the beginning to reread the question. And Kaneki can’t help it, he continues to rub over the front of his underwear, imagining Ayato’s hand doing what he’s doing. Some sort of noise escapes from his mouth, a whisper of a moan perhaps.

“You’re driving me crazy, Kaneki.”

Kaneki doesn’t reply. But he tilts his head back, exposing the column of his throat, and continues to palm himself. Thinking about having Ayato on top of him, thrusting against his body. This train of thought makes him fully hard, and he’s sure Ayato can see it. And he really, really wants to pull off his underwear now and grip at his cock, but Ayato still hasn’t answered the damn question . . .

Ayato groans in exasperation, but he begins to write on the paper. He scratches out a couple of numbers, and Kaneki sees his indigo eyes flicker in his direction, towards what Kaneki is still doing with his hand. Summoning some superhuman focus from thin air, Ayato inhales, and begins to work again at the problem.

“It’s A. $217.58.”

Kaneki already knows the letter of the answer. He doesn’t bother to look down at the book, instead choosing to drop it on the floor. It lands, somewhere. He doesn’t know where, he doesn’t care.

“Correct.”

He’s not nervous anymore. No, instead he is filled to capacity with a sensual longing, a desire to be touched and loved all over. He wants Ayato, and now. So his sweaty palms push down his boxer briefs, and he’s left naked and hard, all bare skin for Ayato’s eyes to roam.

But Ayato doesn’t sit still. He rises to his feet quickly, and then he’s kissing Kaneki with reckless abandon, hands grabbing at Kaneki’s ass and pulling him closer. There are no words for a while, just tongues and spit and skin.

“Bedroom,” Ayato groans against Kaneki’s lips when his boyfriend begins rubbing his thigh into his crotch. “Now.”

Kaneki doesn’t show any sign that he’s heard Ayato. Or maybe he does, because now it’s his hand that is rubbing insistently against his hardon, fingers teasing with the zipper.

“ _Fuck._ ” Ayato lifts Kaneki by the backs of his thighs, and begins to move toward the bedroom. Kaneki grins impishly, and links his ankles around Ayato’s waist, dropping a kiss or two into his dark hair.

It’s by no means the first time they’ve had sex together, or even their second or third. So they don’t fumble through exploring each other and finding out what each other likes the most, or what is a turn off. But it’s still early enough in their intimacy that they _want_ to take the time to touch, for smooth fingertips to graze heated skin. For wandering lips to touch down across the planes of a willing and wanting body.

Kaneki is on his back, watching as Ayato quickly sheds the clothing from his body. And they just take a moment to look at each other, how beautiful it is to see each other in a vulnerable but immensely passionate way. Just a moment, though. Because Ayato becomes overwhelmed inside, a feeling that has shown up before when they become intimate.

A sharp sensation akin to fear begins to churn inside of him. That something this _good,_ this wonderful surely can’t be his? That despite the fact that Kaneki is _right there_ , he yearns for him, aches to be closer.

Kaneki recognizes it immediately. “Come here,” he says softly, grasping Ayato’s hand in his, pulling him closer. Ayato tumbles onto the bed, his eyes wide open and never straying from Kaneki’s.

He holds Ayato close to his body, and they kiss gently. Kaneki begins to take the lead, pressing kiss after kiss onto Ayato’s slick lips. And then he feels it. Ayato’s apprehensions drop away, and he’s now the one tonguing into Kaneki’s mouth. He’s the one roving downward to bite at soft skin possessively. He’s the one to take Kaneki’s hard cock into his mouth.

“Haaaahhh,” Kaneki breathes out, back arching. His fingers claw into the comforter as Ayato begins to suck earnestly at the head of his dick. It feels so fucking good, and when Ayato goes lower, Kaneki groans, and pulls his legs towards his body, feet pressing into the bed. Ayato must hear the noises Kaneki is now making, must feel how his whole body tenses with the pleasure of getting his cock so intensely sucked. Because he redoubles his efforts, his hands gripping firmly onto the backside of Kaneki’s knees, holding his legs open.

“Aya-to . . . “ Kaneki pants. “Stop, please. I’m gonna come if you keep going.”

Ayato abruptly pulls off of him, and is quickly back on top of Kaneki, rejoining their lips. They begin kissing at a feverish pace, all of the stops pulled out. And Kaneki can feel how hard Ayato is, can feel his erect cock pressing down onto his hip.

“I want you, now,” Ayato’s voice rumbles into Kaneki’s ear. “I’m going to fuck you.”

He will get no argument from Kaneki.

Ayato has him against the headboard a handful of seconds later, and he works him open slowly, efficiently. Kaneki’s fingers grip the wooden headboard, his knuckles turning white from the amount of pressure he is exerting to hold himself in place. His moans fill the air, as does the slick sound of Ayato’s fingers working steadily in and out of his body.

When Ayato fucks into him soon after, Kaneki yells out, clenching his eyes shut. It’s not exactly a painful feeling, but Ayato worries all the same.

“Baby?” he whispers huskily into Kaneki’s ear, body going stiff with worry.

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” Kaneki pants. Ayato still doesn’t move, so Kaneki pushes his ass into him, his back touching a hot and sweaty chest.

“Fuck,” Ayato moans, his hands falling to cradle Kaneki’s hips. For good measure, Kaneki does it again, pulling himself toward the headboard and then pushing against it, forcing Ayato’s cock inside of him.

“You feel so good,” Ayato murmurs, beginning to move his own hips, skin slapping lightly against skin. He chooses to wrap one of his arms around Kaneki’s midsection, needing to keep him close.

Kaneki continues to move his hips against the movement of Ayato’s, and it drives Ayato’s cock forcefully inside of him, creating tingling sensations across the length of his limbs, and a building coil of heat in his cock.

“Touch me,” Kaneki breathes, tilting his head to the side, trying to make his body as open as possible. Ayato moves his other hand from Kaneki’s hip, curling his fingers around his cock, and then begins to stroke it.

The panting breaths in the air begin to turn into a chorus of moans. Ayato’s lips hover over the skin at Kaneki’s neck, his mind too busy concentrating on the rhythm of his hips and the hand on Kaneki’s cock to spare any thought for kissing.

A few more pulls on Kaneki has him spilling onto Ayato’s hand, some of it smearing onto the headboard. Ayato works it all out while Kaneki huffs out some deep breaths, his heart a hammering mess. Ayato doesn’t hold back any longer now, and thrusts hard, feeling his own body more than ready for a release. His lips find Kaneki’s neck and he bites down, coming with a series of stuttered groans. His body finally goes still, but his hands rest on Kaneki’s hips, and his sweaty forehead presses down onto the space between Kaneki’s shoulderblades.

“That . . . that was . . . very good,” Ayato manages.

“ _Yes,_ ” is all Kaneki says, but he twists his head to the side to kiss the top of Ayato’s head.

They take a few minutes to clean themselves off in the bathroom, and then come back to flop into bed for a while longer, both of their minds still buzzing with the glow from great sex. Their legs are intertwined, and Kaneki’s head is resting peacefully on Ayato’s chest.

“I love you,” Kaneki says softly.

Ayato smiles, at peace. “I love you, too.”

The pair spends the rest of the afternoon in bed, dozing off for some time together. Calls and texts go ignored, and they don’t even bother to turn on the light in the bedroom when it becomes dark outside, the room now a hazy gray-black where they can only vaguely see the outline of each other’s body. Ayato is roused from his half-sleep some time later, the feel of Kaneki’s hand trailing all over his body making him hmmm in pleasure. And when Kaneki begins to press sweet kisses onto his chest? Well, that feels nice. Really nice.

It’s when he trails his hand down to Ayato’s cock and begins to stroke it in a loose grip that he knows his boyfriend is into it.

And he enjoys every fucking second of it.

* * *

 

Kaneki taps a pen against his head, trying to focus on the task at hand. He’s in his summer class, and he’s working on a group project with three of his peers. They’re all supposed to be coming up with ideas on how to differentiate their lesson plans, but Kaneki is pretty much dead in the water at the moment. He checks the time on his phone, hoping against hope that he has a new text notification.  

But he doesn’t.

Today is the big day--Ayato’s GED test day. He went in at 9am, and with all four testing sections, the total amount of time it should take comes out to be just around or over 6 hours. He hopes that soon he will hear something from his boyfriend. Because it’s just past 3 p.m. now, and he hasn’t the slightest inclination on how Ayato has done.

Kaneki gets out of class half an hour later, and still nothing. He tries not to panic, but it’s difficult. The entire ride home on the bus has him biting at his nails--something he never does. He also keeps looking at his phone, feeling a phantom vibration every twentieth second or so. And each time when he sees that it was just his imagination, he sighs, growing just a little more anxious. So he stuffs the device in the back pocket of his jeans, determined not to take it out unless he is 100% absolutely sure it is vibrating.

The late afternoon is pleasantly warm, the sun a beautiful golden orb in the sky. But Kaneki sees none of it as he walks towards his building. His booted feet thump loudly up to his second-floor apartment, and he lethargically unlocks his door and shuffles inside. But he sees that the lights are on, and hmmm that’s strange. “Ayato?” he calls uncertainly into the seemingly empty apartment.

There’s no answer, but then the door opens behind him, and Ayato walks in, carrying a few grocery bags. He lights up when he sees Kaneki.

“Hey!” he leans forward to kiss Kaneki on the cheek, and then sets the bags on the counter.

“So?” Kaneki asks, hovering behind Ayato, eager for news.

Ayato turns to him, a jubilant expression on his face. “I passed!”

“Oh my god!” Kaneki jumps at him excitedly, and Ayato catches him, laughing. “Congratulations! I knew you would do it!”

“Thank you.” Ayato kisses him tenderly, and then sets him down a moment later. Kaneki can’t take his eyes off of him, for he is practically radiating happiness in a pure form. He’s never seen Ayato like this, so loose, so free. Something wrenches inside of Kaneki, something powerfully beautiful to see Ayato completely happy in this way. And he’s so _fucking proud_ of what Ayato has done, how all of his hard work has paid off. Tears well up in Kaneki’s eyes, and he bites his lip, trying to keep them at bay.

“And now, I’m going to make you din--are you crying?” Ayato’s voice is soft, but a little bewildered. He moves to take Kaneki in his arms again, holding him tight. “What’s wrong?”

“I just--” Kaneki’s voice is thick with tears, and he feels them fall down his face, dampening Ayato’s t-shirt. “I just am so proud of you, Ayato. I-I-you are amazing . . . and, uh, I love you so goddamn much.”

“I love you, too.” Ayato continues to hold him protectively, as if he can fight off anything that will ever make Kaneki sad. “Please don’t cry.”

Kaneki pulls away slowly, wiping at his eyes. He smiles gingerly at his boyfriend, this glorious being who pushes himself harder than anyone Kaneki has ever met before.

“You just did the most awesome thing ever, so I am going to fucking make _you_ dinner,” he says, his voice still deep with emotion.

They end up making it together, working closely side-by-side.

And then celebrate later on in bed, Kaneki giving Ayato the best blowjob of the century.

 

* * *

 

Some months pass by, and summer gives way for fall. Ayato decides to enroll at the community college, after he has given it plenty of thought. How there might be a learning gap between himself and the other students. How he will still be slow to read and write in class. How it will be weird to be around so many other people. But he ultimately decides to go for it, anyways. And when he sees Kaneki's happy grin at his news, it just cements his resolve. He will  _not_ fail at this, he will give it everything he's got.

When Kaneki comes home after classes and work to what is now their apartment, he often finds that Ayato is still studying, even hours later after his classes have ended. He is not surprised at all when Ayato receives straight A’s that first semester. Kaneki hangs the report card up on their refrigerator, taking prominence over scattered pictures of their friends and various holiday cards they have received. Ayato tries to hide how pleased he is by the gesture, but then abandons that quest when Kaneki hangs the report card from his second semester of perfect grades beside it. So he accepts Kaneki's pride in him, and doesn't deflect those compliments that Kaneki directs his way when he tells him how well he does in his classes.

Gradually, Ayato begins to talk more to his sister, though their relationship is still strained. Kaneki meets her one day, when they see her when out grocery shopping. Touka is coolly polite to him, and distant. He can’t really make heads or tails of her. The whole time the three of them talk, Ayato looks almost frantically between Kaneki and his sister, worried about how this meeting will go. But Kaneki is civil, and answers Touka’s few questions about college, and Kaneki’s job.

When they are back home, Kaneki sees that Ayato is quiet, as per usual after spending time with his sister. He doesn’t like it, how it takes hours afterward to soothe Ayato’s turbulent emotions, how these meetings stir up memories of a most unhappy past. Yet he remains supportive of Ayato’s decision to keep talking to his sister, and slowly they begin to work through their issues.  

“Would you like to invite her over for dinner?” Kaneki asks one evening, as they chop up some vegetables for a salad.

Ayato blinks, surprised. He takes a minute to consider his answer. “Yeah. Actually, I would like that a lot.”

So they invite Touka over, and Hinami and Hide as well. Kaneki’s sister is a sweet girl (though sometimes Hide and Hinami team up against Kaneki to tease him), and without knowing it, she smooths over any awkward moments during dinner. Hide--who Ayato actually gets along with now . . . sort of--tells jokes and stories of a younger Kaneki which has them all laughing and Kaneki blushing. Though he doesn’t mind in the slightest, seeing how it effectively washes away any last tension in the air.

Later on that night, after delicious food has been eaten and the dishes washed, they say good-bye to their guests. Hinami leaves first, squeezing first her brother and then Ayato in a tight hug before running out to meet a friend that is picking her up. Touka surprises them both with a kiss to the cheek for Kaneki and a long hug for her brother. She looks at them both for a minute before stepping aside, and there's something in her expression that makes Kaneki hopeful that she'll come back again. Hide slings an arm around Kaneki’s shoulders when he leaves, and it’s just a smidge too long for Ayato, who wants to shove that arm off of his boyfriend. But Hide and Touka walk out to their cars together soon after that, and Kaneki is happy that the two of them seem to have gotten along well. Overall, the dinner goes way better than he could have hoped, and the two of them are both very happy as they get into bed. A couple of months later, neither of them are surprised when Hide and Touka start dating.

More time passes, and Kaneki finishes school, graduating with a master’s in education. He gets a job offer at the school he student taught at, to be an 8th grade English Language Arts teacher. He happily accepts, and comes home with stories for Ayato of the weird things his students write about, or the strange behavior they exhibit.

Ayato finishes his degree at the community college, and gets into art school. It’s a pretty tough program, often challenging Ayato’s time management but never exhausting his creativity. Kaneki attends an exhibit that the students are a part of, where each of their best couple of works are on display. He privately thinks that Ayato displays the most talent, and won’t allow himself to think he is at all biased. A writer of children’s books comes across Ayato's art that night, and after some discussion and looking through Ayato’s portfolio, hires him to illustrate her books. When he tells Kaneki about it, it is hard to tell who is more excited.

All in all, life is pretty perfect for them.

 

* * *

 

“What book did you say you need to look at again?” Kaneki asks, staring out the bus window at the assortment of warm colors that the leaves have changed into.

“Ummm. . .” Kaneki turns to look at Ayato thoughtfully at his delayed response. “It’s about Medieval armor.”

“Oh. You don’t remember what it’s called?” Kaneki presses.

“I, uh, I wrote it down,” Ayato says, not quite managing to meet Kaneki’s questioning gaze.

“Hmm.”

Ayato has been acting positively strange today, and it has Kaneki on edge. He was awake at the crack of dawn, sitting at the kitchen table and drinking coffee when Kaneki finally stumbled tiredly into the room. Just staring into the contents of his cup. And if he’s being honest with himself, Ayato has been acting strange for a week or so now. Kaneki doesn’t like the feeling that his boyfriend of almost four years is keeping something from him. He never has before, and he’s more than a little worried about it. Because Ayato has always been able to talk to him about what bothers him, though sometimes it takes a day or two until he’s ready. So does that mean that now, after almost two weeks of his odd behavior and still nothing from Ayato, it means that it’s something about Kaneki? Something bad?

They get off at the stop for the library, very well-known by this point. Kaneki hasn’t worked at the library since he got the job at his school, but he still visits from time-to-time, occasionally with Ayato. Hinami even works there now, working her way through college, though most of Kaneki’s former co-workers have moved on.

Kaneki leads the way through the library’s front doors, reaching behind him for Ayato’s hand. He finds it, and frowns. The hand is clammy, though the fall day has been pleasant. No reason for a semi-sweaty hand.

“Hey, Roma,” Kaneki calls to the young woman behind the circulation desk. And he wonders what the hell is going on, because she is smiling sunnily at him, and then levels that sunbeam at Ayato, too.

“What the fuck,” he mutters underneath his breath, aggravated. They are nearing the tables now, and he exhales noisily.

“This way,” Ayato says quietly, tugging at Kaneki’s hand. He leads him towards the table he so frequently used to sit at, and Kaneki sees that there is a tabletop art easel of sorts, and something is on display. Hmm. He didn’t know there were any events going on today.

But as they get closer, and then stop right next to the table, a rush of emotion floods through Kaneki. Because he recognizes that style of sketch, the pencil lines so perfect and precise. He recognizes the figure in the drawing, a man seated on a bus, reading a book.

It’s Kaneki.

“Ayato?” Kaneki asks, feeling like he is falling.

Ayato is there in front of him, indigo eyes wide and full of emotion. And Kaneki sees it now. How nervous Ayato suddenly is, how he is chewing on his lip. How his other hand twitches at his side. Kaneki freezes in place.

Without a warning, no sign of any kind, people begin appearing from behind rows of books. Hinami is grinning happily, warm eyes shining. And there’s Irimi and Koma, smiling knowingly at him. Nishio is leaning against a bookshelf, trying to look bored, but Kaneki can read his smug smile well. Touka and Hide are nearby, holding hands. Even Naki and Miza are there, the former rakishly grinning at his long-time best friend.

“Kaneki,” Ayato begins, and his voice cracks. “This is for you.” He picks the sketch up from the easel, and slowly hands it to his boyfriend. Kaneki looks down at it for a moment, feeling his heart in his throat. His eyes trace over the lines that make up his body. He notices how he is in sharp focus, and on either side of him there are shadows of what must be the people that are sitting near him.

Like all of Ayato’s art, it is exquisitely detailed and breathtaking. Kaneki feels the pounding of his pulse, a blush blooming on his cheeks. He has _never_ seen this particular sketch before. Never knew that Ayato had drawn him on that day, so many, many months ago.

“It’s . . . beautiful, Ayato,” Kaneki says quietly, eyes only seeing Ayato now.

“I started that the first day that I saw you. Do you remember? On the bus?”

Of course Kaneki remembers. He nods once, fingers still clasped around the edges of his drawing. Never ever will he forget the first time he saw Ayato, stunning and staring. He still can’t believe that fortune somehow brought the two of them together.

“I’ll never be able to tell you exactly how much you mean to me,” Ayato croaks.  With that, Kaneki feels his eyes swell with the threat of tears. There will be no holding them back this time. “I wanted to ask you out for a long time, but never thought you’d be interested in me. And then--then you ended up beating me to it, anyways.”

There is the sound of soft laughter around them, but Kaneki doesn’t look away from Ayato. Something golden and bright is soaring inside of him, and he dares to guess what is coming.

“You’ve helped me with so much--the reading, getting my GED. Applying to college. I would never be where I am now had it not been for your support, your care. I love you so much.”

The first tears fall down Kaneki’s cheeks, and he tries to blink more away. “I love you, too.”

“I never want to be without you. I want to wake up next to you _every day_ and kiss you awake. I want to adopt some pets and help decorate your classroom. I want-I want . . .” Ayato’s voice fails him here, and he shakily exhales, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. But when he opens them, Kaneki sees the light of determination in them.

And then he kneels in front of Kaneki, and more tears fall down his face.

“I love you,” Ayato says again, emphatically, taking one of his hands. “I always will. Please . . . Kaneki, will you marry me?”

Ayato produces a ring from the depths of his jacket pocket, and extends his hand to Kaneki. It’s a simple band--silver or white gold, Kaneki knows not. Right now, he doesn’t care. Because his heart is thrumming in his chest like the wings of a hummingbird. And there’s only one thing to say.

“Yes,” he whispers.

Kaneki sees the dawning joy on Ayato’s face, how he almost can’t believe Kaneki’s answer at first. He remains kneeling for a moment, but then realization hits him, and he’s quickly rising to his feet and slips the ring onto his finger. And all Kaneki can see is Ayato’s bright eyes, blazing with love and jubilation, before his boyf-- _fiance_ \--presses his lips down to his.

There are cheers from around them, but it sounds distant to Kaneki. Joy is bubbling throughout his entire body, and he thinks _yes, this is the best moment of my life._ When they part, their friends surround them, hugs freely given from them all. Hinami is crying too, and hugs Ayato just as fiercely as she did her brother.

It is some minutes later, when Kaneki gets a minute to breathe, with Ayato’s arm slung around his waist, that he sees that there is something written on the back side of the sketch.

"From the first day I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off of you, to now, the man that I’ll always love.  --Ayato"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probs the last thing I'll write before I move two states away, ahhhhh, stressed. So I'm sorry if it seems rushed!
> 
> I actually took a practice GED math test for this fic--I got all of them right lol. The questions in this fic were taken directly from that test!
> 
> I was inspired to write this because of the original tumblr prompt. And because I needed some fluffy ayakane to think about. Now I'm wanting to write some raunchy, gritty ayakane. 
> 
> Someone please find me and punch me in the face.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!
> 
> I'm on tumblr [here!](http://telltaleheartwrites.tumblr.com)


End file.
